Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl
by Pixel13
Summary: Elizabeth Swann, daughter of the governor of Port Royal, has always had an unhealthy obsession. Confined by corsets and ceremonies, she longs to meet the thing no one can control: A pirate. But when that day comes, when she finally meets the one she's read all about, Elizabeth's life will change forever. Will she ever find her freedom? Interpretation of Elizabeth's point of view.
1. A Curiosity

The three bodies hang from nooses, the rags of their shirts and trousers swaying in the wind. The bodies are tied to a wooden board that is secured well above the ocean. Even at high tide, all who pass are forced to look upon the corpses. Their skin is all but nonexistent and the bones which lay beneath have turned a grayish-brown. Two of the three heads are dropped unnaturally to the side and the third stares out dangerously across the water. Their eye sockets are sunken and empty, their hair stringy and wet. Beside them hangs a wooden sign.

Pirates Ye Be Warned.

I rest my head in my hand and place my other hand on the stone wall of the bridge.

Since the time I arrived in Port Royal, the pirates have always hung there. Their skeletal faces startled me at first, but that was over a year ago and now I am well-adapted to their skinless-ness. They stand as a warning to all dishonest souls who enter this royal city.

I lean over to put my head on my elbows. Despite the atrocity at which society regards pirates, there is something about the idea of a pirate that is just _fascinating._ Father would scold me for thinking such things, but no one need ever know how many hours I have spent wondering . . . wishing . . .

"Elizabeth!"

I turn around to see my father's approaching figure.

"What in heaven's name are you doing here? You're supposed to be studying! And what are you—" He follows my gaze to glance at the figures hanging from the wooden board. Father shudders and turns back to me.

"Elizabeth, this has to stop. All of this . . . this _pirate_ nonsense, there must be an end to it! It's dangerous and I will not have it from my only child!"

I look at the ground to avoid his disapproving expression, but I am not sorry.

"I will not catch you here ever again, do you understand? Look at me." His voice rises just a little. I raise my eyes to meet his and bite the inside of my cheek to keep back a cutting reply. However, as I continue stare at my father, his light brown eyes begin to soften.

"How am I supposed to raise the daughter of a governor when she refuses to listen?" He adds with a soft chuckle.

"Father," I say, putting my arms around his waist. He puts his arms around me for a moment and I know he's not truly angry with me. It is difficult for him to stay upset with me for long.

"Now get in the carriage. It's waiting for you down at the end of the bridge," he says, letting me go. "And don't let me catch you here again!"

I follow his orders and scurry down the stone bridge. As I approach the carriage, I notice another figure standing at the end of the bridge, one who undoubtedly accompanied my father here.

"Lieutenant Norrington," I say in greeting to the tall man who's presenting a scowl from beneath his pale wig and British Naval commander's hat.

"Miss Swann," his voice is not friendly. "Back to watch dead men stay dead?"

"They were once alive," I reply, taking on a glare. "I only wonder who they were and why they were hung."

Lieutenant Norrington walks past me slowly, his hands clasped tightly behind his back.

"Who they once were is none of your concern, Miss Swann. They had no place in this world, therefore they were sent to the one place they truly belonged."

"You knew them before they were hung?" I say in surprise, catching up to him as he slowly walks back along the bridge.

"Don't sound so interested Miss Swann. I know nothing of who they were, only what they did," he says contemptuously.

"Did you ever speak to them?" I ask, my eyes focused on his face. He stares out at the blue ocean with a disapproving stare, as if this were the most unpleasant conversation he has ever had.

"I don't see that it matters. I gave the order and they were hung, what more do you wish to know?"

"You? You gave the order?" I say incredulously. "You said you never knew who they were, only what they did. How can you condemn a man whose intentions might have been the opposite of the action he was committing?"

"I knew his intentions," Lieutenant Norrington stops and turns on me. "Those were perfectly clear the moment he set foot in Port Royal. Ah. Governor Swann."

My father strides over to us.

"Is everything alright, Lieutenant?" Father asks.

"Sir, you would do well to control your daughter and her obsession with _pirates_ ," he spits the last word.

"I'm terribly sorry, Lieutenant."

"It's not an obsession, it's a curiosity!" I yell to Lieutenant as my father pushes me backwards into the carriage. He shuts the door and turns away. Knowing father, if he refuses to look at me that's not a good sign.

"Let me tell you Miss Swann," says Lieutenant Norrington, inserting his head through the carriage window. "The only aspect of pirates one should be curious about is why they even exist."

As the carriage pulls away I have a sudden urge to stick my tongue out at him, but I restrain myself. I'm twelve years old now and after how disappointed Father must be with me . . . I know I should not be curious about pirates. Piracy is against the law.


	2. The Pirate

1 Year Earlier

"We pillage, we plunder, we rifle and loot," I sing under my breath, gazing across the black sea. "Drink up me hearties yo ho! We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot. Drink up me hearties yo ho! Yo ho, yo ho a pirate's life for me. We extort, we pilfer, we filch and sack. Drink up—"

I gasp as a hand suddenly grasps my shoulder. I turn around in fright, but it's only Joshamee Gibbs, a bewhiskered sailor of the _HMS Dauntless_.

"Quiet Missy! Cursed pirates sail these waters," he says, scanning the horizon. "You don't want to bring them down on us now, do ya?"

"Mr. Gibbs, that will do!" The voice of Lieutenant Norrington calls out behind the superstitious sailor, who releases my shoulder. Gibbs points at me.

"She was singing about pirates! Bad luck to be singing about pirates with us mired in this unnatural fog. Mark my words."

"Consider them marked," Lieutenant Norrington says coldly. "On your way."

"Aye, Lieutenant. It's bad luck to have a woman on board, too… even a miniature one." Gibbs walks away but stops just within listening distance.

I turn to face the lieutenant. Beside him stands my father.

"I think it'd be rather exciting to meet a pirate," I defend myself.

Lieutenant smiles but more out of amusement rather than agreement.

"Think again Miss Swann. Vile and dissolute creatures, the lot of them," he says, walking to stand beside me, facing the ocean. "I intend to see to it that any man who sails under a pirate flag or wears a pirate brand gets what he deserves—a short drop and a sudden stop."

I sense a movement in the corner of my eye and I spot Mr. Gibbs miming a hanging with a rope around his neck. I breath in quickly and look at the lieutenant.

"Lieutenant Norrington," my father steps up, "I appreciate your fervor, but I'm, uh, I'm concerned about the effect this subject will have upon my daughter."

"My apologies, Governor Swann," the naval commander replies. He walks away with his hands behind his back.

I don't understand. I don't see anything frightening about pirates.

"Actually, I find it all fascinating," I tell my father to ease his nerves.

"Yes, that's what concerns me," he replies and walks away. I stare at him, still unable to understand what he's afraid of. I turn my eyes back to the ocean to daydream.

My eyes narrow. I see something floating in the water. A white parasol. It twirls upside down as it rides the folding waves. I follow it a little ways around the ship, wondering where on earth it came from. As far as I know, we're out in the middle of the ocean. We can't be close to any land. I lean over the side to look at the parasol, but it seems to have disappeared. I turn the direction from which it floated and to my astonishment, as well as my horror, I see a boy floating in the water on a raft of wood. He appears to be unconscious, with his limbs sprawled out and his mouth dropped open.

"Look!" I shout to the sailors. "There's a boy! A boy in the water!" I point over the ship. The sailors rush to the side.

"Man overboard! Man the ropes. Fetch a Hook! Haul him aboard," Lieutenant Norrington orders the sailors, who immediately throw ropes over the side and prepare to rescue the boy. I follow them and watch as they pull him onto the ship.

If he's dead . . .

Everyone gathers around him cautiously, but I hear Lieutenant Norrington say, "He's still breathing."

Mr. Gibbs swears. I turn around to see where his gaze lies, but it is not on the boy. My mouth opens slightly. A ship floats before us, torn clean in half and bursting with flames. Cargo and debris float in the boiling ocean. Yellow light flickers from the charred, black wood that was once a ship.

"What happened here?" My father mutters.

"It's most likely the powder magazine. Merchant vessels run heavily armed," the lieutenant responds. I watch, aghast, as the main mast of the ship tumbles into the water below with a loud crackling sound. It's a horrible sight.

"A lot of good it did them," says Gibbs, referring to the cause of the fire. "Everyone's thinkin it, I'm just saying it. Pirates." Could pirates have really been the cause of this?

I can't see any living movement. It seems unlikely there can be any survivors.

Suddenly I look down at the boy, laying on the deck. One survivor.

I walk over to him as Lieutenant Norrington shouts orders to his men to take to the boats. I hear my father's voice in my ear.

"Elizabeth, I want you to accompany the boy. He'll be in your charge. Take care of him."

I nod and follow the sailor carrying the boy, who takes him away from the crowd of sailors and lays him down upon the floor of the deck. As I kneel over him and see his stomach rising and falling, I feel an odd sense of relief for him. I bend over to stroke his hair carefully. At my touch the boy yells out and grabs my wrist. I jump.

"It's okay. My name's Elizabeth Swann," I say softly.

"Will Turner," the boy responds, clearly startled.

"I'm watching over you, Will," I assure him and try to smile.

He nods and falls back into unconsciousness, his mouth open in exhaustion.

Suddenly I spot something wrapped around his neck. Some sort of chain. As I pull it out from beneath his shirt, the chain dangles a golden medallion covered in intricate markings. My eyes widen. At the center of the medallion is a skull.

"You're a p-pirate," I gasp. _No. He can't be . . ._

"Has he said anything?" Lieutenant Norrington asks from behind me.

I turn around swiftly, hiding the necklace behind my back.

"His name's William Turner. That's all I found out," I lie.

Lieutenant Norrington nods passively and orders his men to take the boy below. As they bend down to pick him up, I quickly slip the chain of the necklace from over the boy's head. I hide it in my hands, watching until the sailors are out of sight, then looking down at the medallion. I almost wish the skull had disappeared. It stares up at me with an evil grin and I hold it up to see it more clearly. Suddenly I see something out on the ocean. Something else moving through the fog, cloaked in darkness, decorated in ragged sails. I raise my eyes to the top of a tall mast where a piece of black cloth flies in the wind . . . a pirate flag.


	3. The Ceremony

Eight Years Later

My eyes flash open. A candle flickers golden at my bedside. Golden.

I pull off my blankets and carry the candle over to my chest of drawers. I open the middle drawer and take out the books and stationery that lie inside, setting them aside. Then I finger my way to the back of the drawer where I apply pressure and the opposite end of the floor of the drawer tips up. I breathe in slowly.

There lies the medallion I found six years ago. It has sat not only in the dark and dustiness of my chest of drawers, but in my mind as well.

As I pick it up and close the drawer, my eyes never leave the jaunty grin of the pirate skull. It appears silver after I wipe off a layer of blue dust and hold it up to the candlelight. When I was younger I loved having a way to rebel, to have a passion for something I should despise. I almost forgot. To have that power again—that passion. I wonder what that feels like.

I look up at the mirror that is hanging above my bureau and clasp the chain around my neck. It hangs just at my chest and I already feel a sense of power radiating from it.

A knock sounds at the door and I turn in fright.

 _If I am caught with this I will surely meet the same fate as the three pirates hanging above the ocean._

"Elizabeth?" My father's voice sounds.

I immediately reach for my dressing gown that lying at the end of my bed. I trip over a chair in the process and it crashes to the ground.

"Are you alright?" Father asks through the door. I stuff my arms through the dressing gown sleeves. "Are you decent?"

"Yes," I pant in frustration, pushing my hair out of the way to thrust the medallion down the front of my nightgown. "Yes."

Not a second later my father walks in.

"Ugh, still abed at this hour?" He asks with a smile. My two maids, Estrella and Coralyn, follow him through my bedroom doorway. They head straight for the windows and draw back the curtains. My candlelight-adjusted eyes burn a little.

"It's a beautiful day," Father says as the maids open the windows. I see that he is right. Silvery whispers of clouds stray across a gray-blue sky. The land beneath grows green and rich, smoke rising from brick chimneys and the smell of baking pastries in the light breeze. Birds chirp in the palm trees and bells ring. Navy ships float protectively in the bay, white sails upon the masts reaching up towards heaven.

"I have a gift for you," Father says, drawing my attention away from the world outside. Estrella holds out a large, striped box in her arms. Father pulls off the lid.

"Oh it's beautiful!" I exclaim.

"Isn't it?" Father agrees.

Inside lies a golden gown, trimmed with lace at the sleeves and the collar. Beige swirls pattern the bodice, accompanied by white, intricate beading. I pull out the gown and start for my dressing screen, but turn back.

"May I inquire as to the occasion?" I ask suspiciously. It couldn't possibly have something to do with a certain promotion for a certain naval officer . . .

"Does a father need an occasion to dote upon his daughter?" Father asks with a chuckle. I smile and go behind my dressing screen.

"Actually I, uh . ." Father sighs. "I had hoped you might wear it to the ceremony today."

I take off my dressing gown, throw it over the screen, and slip off my nightgown, careful to keep my medallion hidden.

"The ceremony?" I say.

"Captain Norrington's promotion ceremony," Father clarifies. I pause to look out at Father in accusation.

"I knew it!" I say, coming back behind the screen as the maids place a corset around my torso. I look at them in surprise but they do not look up.

I've never worn a corset before.

I hear Father laugh lightly. " _Commodore_ Norrington, as he's about to become."

Coralyn holds the corset in place while Estrella attacks the laces from behind. I breathe in quickly when she tightens them.

"A fine gentleman, don't you think? He fancies you, you know," Father adds. I gasp loudly as Estrella tightens another lace. I feel as if my ribs are being crushed!

"Elizabeth. How's it coming?" Father asks.

"It's difficult to say," I respond, trying to push air into my lungs. I have a strong desire to push the maids away and rip the corset off of me.

"I'm told it's the latest fashion in London," Father goes on.

"Well women in London must have learned not to breathe," I retort, grasping my bosom in want of air. From behind the dressing screen, I hear a servant call my Father to meet a visitor waiting downstairs and Father leaves.

"There," Estrella announces, indicating the corset has reached its completion. I try to breathe a sigh of relief, but the corset stops me. I feel as though I've dropped a thousand feet and have landed on solid ground.

I'm helped into the gown, which somehow seems less beautiful than before. As my hair is put up and a hat is tied beneath my hair, I try to distract myself from my struggle for breath by turning my attention to the large amount of cleavage the gown reveals.

"Milady, you look very lovely," Estrella says, and I stare at myself in the mirror.

I suppose I look lovely. If one disregards my lack of air.

I walk out of my bedroom and down the staircase slowly, for with each breath I feel a twinge of pain in my stomach. If only I could—

"Oh Elizabeth, you look _absolutely_ stunning!" Father's voice calls. I look up and see Father standing beside the visitor, who is dressed in a brown jacket and matching trousers. His face looks startled to see me, just as he was when I first met him eight years ago.

"Will!" I exclaim, hurrying down the rest of the steps and approaching him. "It's so good to see you! I had a dream about you last night."

"About me?" Will asks in surprise.

"Elizabeth, well, is it entirely proper for you to—?" Father interjects. I ignore him, my eyes fixed upon Will's.

"About the day we first met, do you remember?"

"How could I forget, Miss Swann?" He replies, much to both my satisfaction as well as the opposite.

"Will, how many times must I ask you to call me Elizabeth?" I ask him. He hesitates.

"At least once more, Miss Swann, as always."

"There," says Father approvingly, "you see? At least the boy has a sense of propriety."

I drop my eyes.

"Now, we really must be going," Father continues, handing me my parasol. "There you are."

I look back at Will, whose eyes are gazing back in apology. How could my father say that in front of Will?

"Good day Mr. Turner," I try to say as indifferently as possible, only to please my father.

"Come along," Father prompts, and I follow him out the door towards the carriage.

"Good day," Will calls as we step into the carriage. I watch him as we pull away and ride down the road.

"I do hope you demonstrate a little more decorum in front of Commodore Norrington," Father says to me. "After all, it's only through his efforts that Port Royal has become fully civilized." He smiles at me meaningfully. We go over a bump in the road, which both startles and silences him.

 _He's disappointed again,_ I think. I don't like it when Father is displeased with me, but I do not see any harm in calling Will by his first name. I've known him for half my life.

I look out the window of the carriage at the dirt road beneath us and my thoughts turn to the upcoming ceremony held at Fort Charles. Captain Norrington has long deserved this honor of promotion. He's a very admirable man.

The carriage comes to a sudden stop.

"Ah, here we are," Father says and steps out. I follow him into the fort, which is slowly being filled with noblemen and women dressed in some of their finest outfits. The naval officers are dressed in blue or red, depending on their rank. They patrol the fort, rifles resting against their shoulders.

I walk to a place beside the other noblemen and women. Father goes to stand beside some of the major officers of the army. I pull out my fan. My ribs are beginning to ache again. I was fine in the carriage, but the simplest of movements, like walking, seem to irritate them.

Just then, the whistles and drums begin sound and the officers dressed in blue form their ranks. Their two lines split as several more lines of officers, dressed in red, march up the middle. At the far end of their formations I spot Captain Norrington—now Commodore Norrington.

The soldiers lower their bayonets and Commodore Norrington walks to the other side of their lines.

My eyes sting as my ribs tighten again. I quicken the pace of my fanning. My stomach is aching with pain and I'm beginning to feel like I am battling for every breath.

 _I can't do this._

I bite my lip and swallow, but my mouth feels ever more dry. I have to leave. I can't wear this horrid thing anymore. My wrist hurts from constant fanning and I switch hands. I can't pay attention to the ceremony. My mind feels sluggish.

And then all at once the ceremony is over. I stumble into some shade to cool myself off. Violins sound and the officers disperse. I brace myself against a stone pillar and strain against my corset.

 _Where is Father?_ I wonder. _I must find him and tell him I'm not feeling well. The sooner we leave, the sooner I never have to see this corset again._

"May I have a moment?" Someone says behind me.

I freeze. No. Please, no.

Commodore Norrington stands before me in full naval outfit and a determined expression.

"Yes," I somehow force out. I follow him to the northwest corner of the fort, where we stop at a ledge beside the signal bell. I pull myself up with a little difficulty and fan myself, holding my stomach and staring down at the water beneath the edge of the fort.

My mind is becoming cloudier by the minute.

"Uh, you look lovely, Elizabeth," Commodore says. His voice shakes a little. I half-heartedly smile at him and look away again. _Breathe. You can get through this. Breathe._

"I, uh, apologize if I seem forward but I must speak my mind. This promotion throws into sharp relief that which I have not yet achieved. Uh, a marriage to a fine woman," he says, turning to face me. "You have become a fine woman, Elizabeth."

I look at him, panting, and I hardly hear his words.

"I can't breathe," I sputter.

All at once, my body goes limp. I fall into unconsciousness.


	4. Captain Jack Sparrow

An enormous amount of pressure is relieved from my chest. I choke. Water shoots out of my lungs immediately and it seems like the first breath I've taken in ages. I lay coughing for a moment, feeling disoriented and weak. I'm soaked and lying on my back, looking up at three gentleman. Two are officers dressed in red. One holds my corset. The third man is unlike any I have ever seen. His complexion is dark, as though he's never had a second out of the sun. His face is covered by a dark mustache and a goatee which runs down his chin, divided into two sections and braided at the ends. His dark hair is separated into thick strands of dreadlocks. A reddish-brown cloth covers part of his forehead. Several strands of beads hang from his messy hair; one is secured with a silver coin at the end. He is also soaking wet. _He must have rescued me._

However, his attention is not on me. He seems to be reaching for what lies around my neck.

The medallion.

"Where did you get that?" He says.

"On your feet," the voice of Commodore Norrington says from behind me. I see the tip of a sword, pointed inches from the man's nose. He does as the Commodore says.

"Elizabeth," my father appears and takes hold of my arms, awkwardly helping me up. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine," I tell him, my eyes still on the man who rescued me. I take a second to stuff the medallion down my bodice as Father wraps a blanket around my shoulders. Bayonets are pointed at the man. I knew it. He's a pirate.

"Shoot him!" Father orders.

"Father!" I protest. "Commodore, do you really intend to kill my rescuer?"

Commodore hesitates but sees the plea in my eyes. He slowly lowers his sword. I look back at the pirate as the men lower their bayonets as well.

"I believe thanks are in order," Commodore says, extending his hand. For a moment I'm impressed at the commodore's civility. The pirate takes Commodore's hand, who draws back the pirate's sleeve to reveal a vicious-looking brand of the letter "P."

"Had a brush with the East India Trading Company, did we? Pirate!" Norrington accuses.

The pirate winces.

"Hang him!" My father commands.

"Keep your guns on him, men. Gillette! Fetch some irons," Commodore says to his lieutenant. He pulls up more of the pirate's sleeve to reveal a tattoo of a bird in flight.

"Well, well. Jack _Sparrow_ isn't it?" Commodore releases the pirate's arm with a thrust.

" _Captain_ Jack Sparrow, if you please, sir," Sparrow corrects in a smooth voice. I'm astonished he's worried about the mentioning of his title, considering the dire situation he's put himself in. He doesn't look ruffled though. This must not be the first time someone has sentenced him to death.

Commodore smirks.

"Well, I don't see your ship . . . Captain."

"I'm in the market, as it were," Sparrow answers hastily. And shiftily.

"He said he'd come to commandeer one," one of the officers in red speaks up.

"Told ya he was telling the truth," mutters the other officer. "These are his sir." He holds up a pile of effects.

Commodore picks up a flintlock lying on top.

"No additional shots nor powder. A compass that doesn't point north," he shuts the compass and unsheathes an inexpensive sword. "And I half expected it to be made of wood. You are without doubt the worst pirate I've ever heard of."

"But you have heard of me," replied Sparrow with a smile. Commodore's smile disappears. He grabs Sparrow's arm roughly and pulls him along to put him in chains.

"Commodore, I really must protest," I say, throwing off my blanket and following them.

"Careful Lieutenant," Commodore says as Gillette snaps iron chains around Sparrow's wrists. I stand between Sparrow and Commodore, looking at the latter firmly in the eyes.

"Pirate or not this man saved my life," I say determinedly.

"One good deed is not enough to redeem a man from a lifetime of wickedness."

"Though it seems enough to condemn him," Sparrow interjects behind me.

"Indeed," Commodore glares.

"Finally," I hear the pirate say and suddenly I feel his chains around my neck. I gasp as he pulls me against him.

The soldiers move in closer to us, bayonets at the ready.

"No. No don't shoot!" Father yells.

"I knew you'd warm up to me," Sparrow's voice whispers in my ear. "Commodore Norrington, my effects, please, and my hat."

I twitch as the chain squeezes a bit tighter around my neck. Any second now Sparrow could tighten it and I will be no better than the three pirate skeletons hanging above the bay.

Commodore glares hatefully at Sparrow but does not move.

"Commodore!" Sparrow's voice rises. The naval commander does as told.

"Elizabeth, it is Elizabeth isn't it?" Sparrow asks me.

"It's Miss Swann," I snap.

"Miss Swann, if you'd be so kind," Sparrow says as Commodore holds out the hat, the compass, the flintlock, and the sword. I don't move.

"Come, come dear. We don't have all day," Sparrow's chains tighten and Commodore drops the pirate's things into my arms.

Sparrow immediately grabs the flintlock and holds its barrel to my head. He spins me around to face him.

"Now if you'd be very kind," he says once more. I glare and slap on his hat, then I reach around him to strap on his sword. I try to adjust it as tight as possible, hoping to injure him in even the slightest way.

"Easy on the goods darling," Sparrow says to me, as I slip his sword into place. If he didn't have his chains around my neck, I would unsheathe his sword and run him through for being a cheating, dirty liar.

"You're despicable," I say venomously.

"Sticks and stones, love. I saved your life, you save mine, we're square." He pivots me around. "Gentlemen! M'lady," he says in my ear, slowly walking me backward. "You will always remember this as the day you almost caught Captain Jack Sparrow!"

He releases me and shoves me towards the soldiers. I slam into Father and the Commodore. I look up to see Sparrow take hold of a rope and kick a lever. He's pulled into the air and Commodore gives the order to open fire. Just then the cannon that compensated for Sparrow's weight comes crashing down onto the dock. It smashes through the wood and soldiers fall into the water beneath. Father pulls me away from the falling cannon just in time. The pirate swings around on a rope above us as the officers shoot their rifles. Somehow Sparrow manages to land on a wooden beam across the dock.

"On his heels!" Commodore hands me over to my father and then rushes off with his men.

Sparrow wraps his chains around a rope and slides the length of the dock to the other side. He takes off running as the soldiers kneel and open fire, despite the civilians walking past. And then we watch as Jack Sparrow miraculously escapes.

"Come, Elizabeth. We must get you to safety," Father turns to me. A few soldiers have stayed behind to guard us, but I sense, with Sparrow gone, I am in no further danger.

Father sends for a carriage and I wrap the blanket around me once more. I had not even noticed that I am in my undergarments.

"Elizabeth, are you sure you're all right?" He asks me again as we climb the carriage. "It's a miracle you didn't hit the rocks below the fort, let alone drown!"

"Yes Father, I'm fine," I repeat. "It was the corset. I couldn't breathe."

"Oh my dear girl—"

"Father," I smile. "It's alright. I believe that corset is the least of our worries."

 _I almost died today,_ I think, looking out the window and relishing the freedom of my breathing again. What a very odd thought. I hadn't felt anything when I fell into the ocean. I hadn't felt myself drowning. I only felt the pressure on my chest from the corset.

"We need to get you out of those wet clothes before you fall ill," Father says as the carriage pulls through town. "Especially with this ghastly weather." I look outside to see that he is right. The beautiful day is long gone and it seems the wind has picked up.

"How long before Sparrow is caught do you think?" I ask.

"Not long, I'm sure. Practically the entire Royal Navy is searching for him. Until he is caught, however, you are not to leave the mansion, Elizabeth." I agree. I'm hardly in the mood for any more encounters with a pirate, who did not turn out at all like I imagined.

"Besides, Commodore Norrington is an experienced commander. Yes, I'm sure it will not be long before they catch Sparrow." _Commodore. The Fort. The proposal_.

I sigh deeply and tuck my head into my blanket as the carriage rattles along the dirt road.

"Elizabeth? Is something wrong?" Father asks, full of unnecessary concern.

The carriage comes to a sudden stop.

"Oh, here we are Elizabeth! Quickly. Let's get you inside." Father helps me out and leads me inside. Coralyn and Estrella stand in the doorway and each of them gasp in horror.

"Milady, are you alright?" Coralyn asks as we step inside the mansion.

"She fell off the battlement of the fort," Father explains. "Elizabeth, I have to run back to town but I'll be back in time for supper. Do not leave the mansion. I will bring you news of the pirate." I nod and then Coralyn and Estrella lead me away to get changed. Once inside my room, the maids run the bath for me and then step out while I undress. I ease into the water and lay my head against the ridge of the bathtub.

 _Commodore proposed._

I am marriage age, but only just. Any number of women would pay a mighty sum to be in my position.

 _Mrs. Commodore_ , I think. It does not sound that unpleasant. The man himself is indeed a gentleman, well attuned to the ways of society . . . But it is the ways of society that have me confined.

I suppose I never expected to marry someone of such wealth and refinement. Or maybe I just didn't dare believe it would happen so soon. Today has been full of surprises, most of them unpleasant.

I have have finally encountered a pirate. A real pirate. Suddenly my thoughts flicker to my dream I had the night before. The day I we rescued Will from the shipwreck.

I shudder. The thought that he could have been a pirate . . . _What would have been done to him if the medallion was discovered by another other than myself?_

I absentmindedly finger the medallion. The pirate skull appears to be laughing at me.

How many nights I have dreamt of meeting a pirate. How many books have I read on piracy behind Father's back. Readings of Blackbeard, Henry Morgan, Don Rafael, and Boris Palachnik. Tales of skirmishes, battles, and wars. Swords clash, cannons boom, flags wave. Fighting for silver and gold, for land, for sea. For freedom. That's what I thought it meant to be a pirate. But my admiration for piracy immediately dissipated the second Sparrow threw his chains around my neck. He used me as his leverage to escape.

So that's what it means to be a pirate.


	5. The Attack on Port Royal

When I finish my bath and don an evening gown, I head downstairs in the hopes of seeing father. The house is vacant except for a couple of servants who seem to be adjusting a sconce at the foot of the staircase. I pass them and turn to the dining room where the table is set for two. Father is not here. I'm disappointed. _Surely Commodore has captured Sparrow by now._

Suddenly I hear the front door open in the entrance hall, followed by a gust of strong, warm wind.

"Elizabeth? Elizabeth are you here?" My father's voice sounds and the door is shut. I rush into the entrance hall.

"Yes I'm here. Is everything alright?"

Father looks flustered but exuberant. He takes off his hat and walks towards me.

"Better than alright, actually," he says, slightly out of breath. "Sparrow's been caught. He's locked away now. You're safe Elizabeth." He looks relieved, but I knew Sparrow would not come after me. I was only his escape. Nothing more.

"And what is to become of him?" I ask hastily.

"He faces the gallows at dawn," Father answers. To my surprise, my initial feelings do not match his.

Father offers me his arm and we walk into the dining room. Just as we're sitting down the servants enter and place meat and salad before us. Coralyn lights the candles at the center of the table. I stare at the candle as it slowly burns its wax. The sky outside turns darker by the minute and the candle's flame glows ever brighter.

 _What do I care if Sparrow is hung?_

"Elizabeth are you quite well?" Father asks with a furrowed brow.

"Yes," I promise, looking down at my untouched food.

"Are you not pleased with this news of Sparrow's capture?"

"How ever did they manage to capture him?" I ask quickly, changing the subject and turning my attention to cutting my meat.

"Ah," Father says jubilantly. "Sparrow was found in Brown's blacksmith shop. It's assumed he was there to obtain more weapons, or a better one, considering the one he has . . ."

"Brown's forge?" I look up. "Was Will there?"

"If _Mr. Turner_ ," Father says with emphasis, "was present I was not informed, only that Sparrow was hit over the head with a rum bottle. What a vile, ghastly drink rum is. Turns good men into dirty thieves . . ."

"Father, how is Commodore? Is he alright?" I ask.

"Oh yes. No need to worry about Commodore. You know how determined that man is when a pirate comes around."

"Yes, I know," I say, thinking about the three corpses hanging by the bridge.

"Elizabeth," Father clears his throat and I glance up. "Speaking of the commodore, I do hope you understand what an honor it would be if you became his wife."

 _Oh no_ , I groan internally.

"There are some girls your age who are married and have their first child. Please tell me Elizabeth . . . have you at least _thought_ about marriage?" Father asks.

I look down and don't say anything for a moment.

"Yes," I say slowly. "I have. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll be heading to bed now."

Father stands up reluctantly.

"Goodnight Elizabeth. And please," he adds slowly, "think about what I said."

"I will," I promise sincerely. I leave the dining room and climb the staircase, suddenly feeling the weariness of the day. Inside my bedroom, I gladly change into my nightgown and pin my hair out of my face before climbing into bed. A fire glows in the fireplace beside my bed. I take a book from my bedside table and flip it open.

Estrella comes in a few minutes later. I pretend to be reading, but my thoughts are still on the commodore's proposal.

Estrella puts a hot bedpan beneath my blankets and I instantly feel its warmth at my feet.

"There you go, miss. It was a difficult day for you, I'm sure," Estrella says, adjusting my blankets.

I smile lightly.

"I suspected Commodore Norrington would propose but I must admit, I wasn't entirely prepared for it."

"Well, I meant you being threatened by that pirate. It sounds terrifying."

 _Oh, that._

"Oh. Yes, it was terrifying," I agree indifferently.

"But the commodore proposed! Fancy that. Now that's a smart match, miss. If it's not too bold to say," Estrella says.

I look down.

"It is a smart match. He's a fine man," I sigh and glance sideways. "He's what any woman should dream of marrying."

"Well that Will Turner," Estrella adds. "He's a fine man too."

 _If Father heard her talking like that._

"That is too bold," I tell her.

"Well, begging your pardon, miss. It was not my place," Estrella apologizes and leaves my bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

 _Will is a fine man._

I subconsciously take hold of the medallion at my chest.

All of a sudden, the candle beside me flickers and goes out _._ The room plunges into darkness, except for the fire, which is slowly going out. I look around, acknowledging the strangeness of the weather.

As well as the silence. Very unusual. Port Royal is a city full of traders and merchants. Usually the city is up late into the night, and I go to sleep listening to the sound of laughing or music or—

My bedside table shakes.

What was that sound outside? That can't be _. . . cannonfire?_

I jump out of bed and put on my slippers and dressing gown, tucking the medallion safely away in my nightdress. I run to the balcony and pull open the doors.

Port Royal is ablaze with fire. Screams and yells echo in the distance. Naval officers at Fort Charles are running like mad trying to form their ranks. Something is shot from down in the bay. A cannonball. It hits a battlement of the fort and explodes, showering stones over the soldiers. I look to the source of the cannonfire and see a death-black ship, floating in the bay. Atop their mainmast flies a flag with a skull and crossbones upon it.

Pirates.

Suddenly I hear the gates below the mansion open and I look to see a pack of pirates barrelling through the gates, carrying torches and swords.

 _I must warn the servants!_

I run out of my bedroom and across the hall, only to see the door being opened by Thomas the butler!

"Don't!" I screech, but he is already opening the door. The pirate standing in front of the group lifts a gun to Thomas's head.

"Hello chum," the pirate grins, and a shot rings out.

I scream and cover my mouth as Thomas hits the floor. The pirates step over him. Two of them notice me. _I have to get out of here._

I run back upstairs and lock my bedroom door, only to run into Estrella behind me. We squeal in fright and I pull her behind my dressing screen.

"Miss Swann! They've come to kidnap you!" Estrella whispers.

"What?"

"You're the governor's daughter."

The door beside us rattles. Estrella shrieks quietly.

"They haven't seen you," I tell her. "Hide, and the first chance you get run to the fort." I dart across the door to my bed, take the bedpan out from beneath my blankets and hide beside the door.

 _If only I had a sword._

Seconds later a pirate comes running through the door. I swing the bedpan and hit him square in the face. He drops to the floor and I see Estrella run out of the bedroom. A second pirate walks through the doorway and I try to hit him but he grabs the handle of the bedpan and stops me. He taunts me as I attempt to wrestle it from his grasp but then I flex my index finger and the bedpan splits open. Red-hot coals fall onto the pirate beneath, sizzling and smoking. He shrieks and releases me. I gasp in fright.

 _I can't believe I just did that_ , I think as I run out of my bedroom. _If they catch me, which is highly likely seeing as I'm running out of options—_

 _A sword! Of course! Two of them hang in the dining room!_

I rush down the staircase towards the dining room. One of the pirates jumps down from the top of the staircase and lands in front of me. The other blocks my escape from behind. _I'm trapped_! I look back and forth between the two pirates, trying to find a way to escape. Just then, a third pirate comes walking out of my father's study, carrying a large pile of silver in his arms. Suddenly something explodes. It's a cannonball that shoots from one side of the mansion to the other. It hits the silver thief right in the stomach and he goes flying backward. Something creaks above me and I look up. The chandelier in the entrance hall is swinging threateningly. I make a break for the dining room. Just as I pass underneath the chandelier, it drops to the ground and shatters. I race into the dining room, pushing the doors shut behind me and locking them fast with a candlestick.

I run to the wall and step up onto the fireplace. I grab onto a wall ornament and pull it down onto the floor. Inside are two swords but even though I shake and pull they refuse to be released! The dining room doors shudder and I fly into my final hiding place: the closet.

The doors open not a second later and the pirates rush into the room.

I'm cornered and I have no weapon.

 _Think, Elizabeth, think! There must be something I've read that will save me, if only for a moment. Out of all those books you borrowed from Father's bookshelf and read behind his back, you must remember at least one of them._

"We know you're here Poppet," says one of the pirates. I can hardly control my breathing.

 _Sailing, fencing, anchors, ensigns, navigation—come on!_

"Come out! We promise we won't hurt you," the pirates growl.

 _Wait! What about the pirate code? Set down by the pirates Morgan and Bartholomew in the year—_

"You've got something of ours," a pirate says, "and it calls to us." My blood seems to freeze within my veins. I look down at the chain around my neck.

"The gold calls to us."

I lift the medallion to the sliver of orange light coming from the closet doors. These are no ordinary pirates. I've seen their black sails before. The voyage from England.

Suddenly the orange light disappears. I look up at an eyeball staring back at me.

" 'Ello, Poppet," says the pirate, and the doors are wrenched open.

"Parley," I say, staring at the men and refusing to look at the barrel of the gun pointed at my face.

"What?"

"Parley. I invoke the right of parley. According to the code of the brethren, set down by the pirates Morgan and Bartholomew, you have to take me to your captain."

"I know the code," the pirate with the beard speaks, revealing black and yellow teeth.

"If an adversary demands parley you can do them no harm until the parley is complete," I continue, my eyes shining with terror.

"To blazes with the code," says the pirate with the wooden eye.

"She wants to be taken to the captain!" The bearded pirate growls. He turns back to me. "And she'll go without a fuss. We must honor the Code."

My jaw drops. The pirates grab hold of each of my arms. I must not struggle, that is part of the agreement, but is very difficult.

They pull me out of the dining room and down the staircase. The mansion is filled with pirates. They shoot off guns, smash china, and chase the servants, who scream and run like mad. Then I realize one person is missing. _Where is Father?_

The pirates push me over Thomas's blood-stained body and out into the night. More pirates gather around me as we descend the hill from the mansion. As we enter the town and people begin to run past us, I search desperately for someone who will recognize me. The officers seem to be preoccupied with the unceasing cannonfire, which is aimed not only at the fort but at the city as well.

Where is Father? Where is Commodore? _Why_ will no one look at me?

As I crane my neck above the crowd, I suddenly spot a face I recognize. He turns in my direction.

"Will," I say. His eyes meet mine for only a second, just before I'm pushed out of sight. The pirates urge me through the chaos of the night. The blood-curdling shrieks of the townspeople never seem to cease. Houses and chimneys explode. The courthouse has been set ablaze with fire. Some pirates come out of buildings holding gold or jewels, while others throws explosives through windows. Buildings crumble. People scream. Little children cry for their mothers.

Port Royal looks ready to collapse.


	6. Negotiations

"Come on!" The bearded pirate growls as we approach the bay. A rowboat is waiting for us. The pirates push me in and then pile in after me. Two pirates pick up the oars and begin rowing towards the black pirate ship. I'm running out of options. If Will understood what was happening to me, in the brief moment he saw me, maybe he had had enough sense to run for the Commodore.

The rowboat approaches the side of the ship. I stare up at its ragged, black sails. It's a ghostly, mysterious ship; one that sends shivers down my back. A dark, wooden figurehead heads the front of the ship. It's a woman. This can't be . . . the _Black Pearl_? I remember reading about it. If this is that ship, it will inflict merciless destruction upon my home. There must be a way I can negotiate for the pirates to leave Port Royal alone. Surely they will not consent easily. I must be able to give something in return. I finger the medallion around my neck.

The pirates suddenly set down their oars and begin to board the ship. As I climb up, I notice a figure standing above the stairs, the silhouette of a tall man with a large hat, standing resolute at the helm. A monkey swings onto his shoulder.

I swing over the rail onto the deck of the ship. A tall, bald pirate, with dark skin and small jewels around his eyes and neck, stands in front of me. When he speaks, I stare at his chipped teeth.

"I didn't know we was takin' on captives," he says to the pirates who hold me.

"She's invoked the right of parley with Cap'n Barbossa," one of them replies.

Breaking free of the pirates' grasps, I start to walk towards the tall pirate who likely is first mate.

"I am here to negotia—"

My cheek burns. I gasp. I've never been slapped before.

"You will speak when spoken to," the first mate snarls. Suddenly someone grabs my offender's still-raised wrist. It's the figure from the helm.

"And ye not lay a hand on those under the protection of parley," the pirate says. He has horrid scars across his bearded face, his skin rough and coarse like the wood of his ship. His eyes are tainted yellow. Surely, this can be none other than the dreaded pirate captain himself.

"Aye, sir," says the first mate, pulling his wrist away.

"My apologies, miss," the captain says, turning to me.

"Captain Barbossa," I say determinedly, "I am here to negotiate the cessation of hostilities against Port Royal."

"There are a lot of long words in there, miss; we're naught but humble pirates," he chuckles. "What is it that you want?"

"I want you to leave and never come back," I reply with as much venom as I can manage. The crew laughs.

"I'm disinclined to acquiesce your request," he replies. I stare at him. "Means no."

 _Fine. Have it your way._

"Very well," I say, ripping the medallion from my neck and walking to the side of the ship. "I'll drop it." I dangle the medallion dangerously over the ocean. The crew stirs.

"Me holds are burstin' with swag. That bit of shine matters to us?" Barbossa asks indifferently to his crew. He turns back to me. "Why?"

"It's what you been searching for. I recognized the ship. I saw it eight years ago on the crossing from England!" I say.

"Did 'ja now?" Barbossa indignantly.

He's pretending he cares nothing for the gold, but he's lying. I know he is.

"Fine," I say. "Well, I suppose if it is worthless then there's no point in me keeping it." I let the chain of the necklace lengthen a bit and the medallion inches closer to the depths below.

"No!" Barbossa exclaims and the crew moves in towards me.

I open my mouth in triumph.

This _is_ the same ship I saw eight years ago. The one that almost killed Will. The _Black Pearl._

Barbossa regains his composure and steps towards me, chuckling.

"You have a name, missy?"

"Elizabeth . . ." I blurt. Name . . . he can't know who I am! Name . . name, think of a name! "—Turner. I'm a maid in the governor's household."

Barbossa pauses.

"Miss Turner . . ?" He says to the crew, who mumble to each other.

"And how does a maid come to own a trinket such as that? Family heirloom, perhaps?" He asks suspiciously.

"I didn't steal it, if that's what you mean."

"Very well," he holds out his hand, "you hand it over and we'll put your town to our rudder and ne'er return."

I eye him indignantly before handing over the gold. The gold that laid in my bureau for the past eight years. The bargaining chip that would save Port Royal.

Barbossa takes the coin from me and instantaneously hands it to his pet monkey on his shoulder. The monkey gives a hoot and takes the medallion up into the sails. I look back at the Barbossa.

"Our bargain?" I say, fear quickly sinking back into my soul. Barbossa gives a nod to his first mate, who immediately begins to bark orders to the crew. The captain walks away.

"Wait!" I shout, running after him. "You have to take me to shore! According to the code of the brethren—"

"First," Barbossa snaps, rounding on me, "your return to shore was not a part of our negotiations nor our agreement so I must do nothing. And secondly, you must be a pirate for the pirate's code to apply and you're not. And thirdly, the code is more what you call 'guidelines' than actual rules. Welcome aboard the _Black Pearl_ , Miss Turner!"

I back away in horror. I'm grabbed from behind and led me towards the back of the ship, where they thrust me into a cabin. They slam the doors behind me and I hear the _click_ of a lock.

"No!" I yell through the door, but there is no reply. It's no use. I stare at the door in helplessness as my throat burns.

I back away slowly and turn around. I'm in some sort of makeshift lounge. The room is filled with candles, placed on the table bordering the windows as well as the chairs. The floor and furniture are covered in patterned carpets and blankets. I look around for some sort of latch on the windows, but I should have known better. This is the back of the ship. Even if I broke through one of the windows, the only fate that would await me is the dark water below.

I sit down on a chair, back straight, feet together and hands on my lap.

I wait.

 _Surely they will be coming for me,_ I think, imagining dreadful thoughts. However, a few minutes pass and I am left undisturbed. _Why?_ Perhaps if I had told them who I really was they would merely hold me for ransom and then let me go. Perhaps I could request an audience with Barbossa.

 _I'm disinclined to acquiesce your request,_ a voice repeats in my head. How dare he, I think. We may never have negotiated my returning to shore, but he must have known that was part of his side of the bargain. He went back on his word on purpose.

I suppose this is what it means to be a pirate.

I can't believe I was ever fascinated by piracy! I wish I had nothing to do with it! I wish I was back home in my mansion, in my bed. What did I do to deserve this?

My back begins to ache from my posture. I look around. No one has come for me, and much time has passed. I disregard my habit of correct posture, curling my back and pulling my legs up to my chest. It's not cold in the cabin but I feel cold. And alone. With no way of escape.

Would anyone even notice that I had gone missing amidst the chaos of tonight? Will had seen me. He knows of my capture. Is he the only chance I have of rescue?

Of course Father would notice my disappearance. I hope he is alright. He's mortified when it comes to war, cannonfire, and _pirates_. His whole life he has carefully avoided getting tangled in bloodshed. I've always suspected that was why he had turned to politics, to protect himself and his family. And now his own daughter was carried away by pirates. He may well be on his deathbed out of fear for me.

I sniff.

No. Father will be fine. He will not forget me. And neither will Commodore. _Perhaps that proposal was good for something,_ I think miserably. Funny how I should think of that while I'm confined here. Perhaps that is how I would feel in a marriage with Commodore. Confined.

I continue to sit and wait for someone to appear, but no one does. Not for the rest of the night. I do not allow myself any sleep, however, so as they don't pounce on me unawares. I must protect myself. I'm all I have.

The night is cold and starless. Clouds cover the sky and I watch the waves to pass the time. They fold over each other and pound against the ship. My eyelids grow heavy now and then, but each time I'm remind of where I am and what is at stake. I refuse to sleep.

At dawn the door opens, but I see only a gnarled, hairy hand shove in a chamber pot. I am, however, grateful. I was wondering if I would have to go in the corner.

Once that need is filled, I immediately feel another take its place. My stomach churns. I have not eaten since the evening before. If I am their captive they should at least feed me. I also feel odd that I'm in this room and not in the brig. I wish I was in the brig. Being in this room, with the candles and the yellow light. It makes me uncomfortable and dazey.

I sit on the table and lay my head against the window, staring through the filthy glass and out at the foaming ocean.

Commodore will find me. Father will not give up. And Will . . . My mind travels to what Estrella said the night before. _That Will Turner. He's a fine man too._ I push that thought away.

Father has brought me up my whole life to believe in the ways of society. With that comes very specific boundaries. If I were to merely suggest something like that to Father, he might very well drop dead with surprise or (the more likely) shame.

Why am I thinking about this? I wonder. I'm a captive on the _Black Pearl_ , the most fearsome ship in the caribbean. Its crew is like demons and its captain is like the devil himself, so why in heaven's name am I thinking about marriage proposals? I think hysterically.

 _Perhaps because in times of fear and hopelessness, people tend to cling to the only things that will keep them sane: the idea of freedom._

Does that mean that my fondness for Will is freedom to me?  
I shake my head. What a silly thing to be thinking about. I should be weeping or praying or jumping overboard. I should be haunted with dreams of Thomas being shot or the pirate with the wooden eye (who the crew calls Rigetti) being burned by the contents of my bedpan. Those memories should scare me. I suppose they did in the moment, but now I feel . . . nothing.

I look at the door, which has not been touched for some time. I wonder what the time is. I get tired of sitting and take to pacing. It calms me down, but only slightly. It gives the illusion that I'm doing something to better my situation. But of course, I'm not.

The morning sun rises in the gray sky. I pace and sit and pace again. I watch the sea fold and the clouds race. I see the sky turn blue before it turns black.

Another day has gone by.

My stomach churns with hunger and I pace. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Are they trying to starve me? Would it be better if I jumped overboard and left myself to the sharks for a quick death rather than give in to dying slowly?

I gulp. Death. Death is not an option. Father needs me. Commodore will not forget me.

And Will is surely going to be looking for me.

I feel a pinch of pain in my stomach which surprises me because, for the first time, is not out of hunger.

The sky darkens and I light the candles around me so as not to be plunged into darkness when the sun sets. I take to pacing the room again.

Suddenly the door opens.


	7. The Curse

The pirate with the wooden eye, Rigetti, and the bearded pirate called Pintel, approach me. Pintel holds a large, violet mass in his arms.

"You'll be dinin' with the captain," Pintel says. "And he requests you wear 'dis." He glances down at the purple bundle. Out of nowhere, anger boils up inside me.

"Well, you may tell the captain that I am disinclined to acquiesce his request."

Pintel looks at Rigetti with a chuckle

"He said you'd say that. He also said if that be the case, you'll be dinin' with the crew—and you'll be naked," Pintel smiles evilly at me and Rigetti laughs breathily.

I snatch the dress out of Pintel's arms. His smile disappears. I raise my eyebrows slightly out of smugness.

"Fine," he growls. They leave me alone to dress, but I don't trust the pirates. Not even a little. I slip off my nightgown in a corner away from view of the door. I take care that hardly any skin is revealed as I change. The dress I was given is deep violet. The collar is trimmed with black lace and gold thread, along with its enormous sleeves. As I lift it over my head, a stench of dust reaches my nostrils. I wonder for a brief second about its previous owner. I have sudden urge to rip the dress off of me and throw it overboard. Although I despise it with everything I am, wearing it is significantly better than its alternative.

As I'm pulling one of the sleeves over my shoulder, I hear soft noise from behind me. A chuckle. I stop. I knew I couldn't trust pirates.

I walk slowly towards the source of the noise, which sounds like it came from a wall near the door. I hear whispers as I creep closer, and more chuckling. It's coming from a wall . . . with a hole. I bend down to look in the hole and there I see a wooden eye, swirling in its socket. I hide to the right of the hole.

"I can't see nothing," Rigetti's voice says. I clench my jaw. Just then, I look down to find a fire poker resting beside my feet. I pick it up and thrust it through the hole.

"Me eye!" I hear Rigetti shout. I walk away from the hole after covering it with a blanket. Filthy pirates.

After I finish lacing up my dress I fold up my nightgown and dressing gown and set them in a corner. I'm hesitant to leave them, knowing that I will probably never see them again. They are my last reminders of the life I was taken from. Oh how I miss Port Royal, with its busy streets and sense of security. No more baths. No more dinners with Father or carriage rides. No more ceremonies or trips to the market. No more walks with the commodore or visits to friends. No more passing Will's blacksmith shop on the way to town.

My stomach squeezes a little.

That was the life that was taken from me. The life I may never return to.

I take one last look at my night clothes before opening the door. Pintel and Rigetti are standing outside, still looking slightly put off. Rigetti's wooden eye is back in place. I have a sudden urge to smirk, but I force myself to refrain. I must show regality. I must demand respect. I must not show fear in front of these pirates. Now that I think about it, I have felt more anger than fear since I boarded this hell-bound vessel.

"This way, Poppet," Pintel says grudgingly. The two pirates lead me down the hallway, where they open a pair of glass doors to a large room. Windows line the walls. A long, dark table spans the length of the room. On it lies plates of a large assortment of food. Potatoes, beets, salad, fish and roasted pork. Baskets of apples, plates of biscuits, and bottle of wine. Candles light each end of the table.

I would like nothing better than to return to the cabin I was being held in, but my stomach grumbles loudly, giving me away. Pintel and Rigetti close the doors behind me as I walk towards the table. I see movement in the corner of my eye. Startled, I turn to see Barbossa looking me over.

"Maid or not, it suits you," he says slowly, referring to the dress.

"Dare I ask if it did its previous owner," I reply icily.

"Oh, now none of that," Barbossa says, walking closer. He holds his hand out at a seat at the long table. "Please."

I take the seat he offers me. I sit with my back straight and my feet together. On the plate before me is a leg of roasted pork and fish and potatoes. Barbossa leans down beside me.

"Dig in." I a silver fork and knife from either side of my plate and carefully slice a piece of pork off the leg. I chew it slowly.

Barbossa scoffs.

"There's no need to stand on ceremony, nor call to impress anyone. You must be hungry."

My commitment to regality dissipates at his words. I snatch the leg of pork and rip the meat off with my teeth, hardly chewing before I swallow it. I grab a biscuit from a platter and stuff it in my mouth, tasting the grease from the pork on the bread.

"Try the wine." Barbossa holds out a bronze cup full of violet liquid. I take the goblet from him and swig the wine down before going back to my biscuit.

"And the apples, one of those next," Barbossa offers, holding out a bright apple. It gleams unbelievably green in the candlelight. I lower my biscuit slowly and glance at Barbossa's pet monkey, swinging on its perch that hangs from the ceiling. Its eyes bore into mine with obvious anticipation. I look back at the apple.

"It's poisoned," I accuse. Barbossa laughs.

"There would be no sense to be killin' ya, Miss Turner," he says.

"Then release me. You have your trinket; I'm of no further value to you," I retort. Barbossa reaches into his jacket and pulls out the gold medallion.

"You don't know what this is . . . do you?"

"It's a pirate medallion," I respond smartly.

"This is Aztec gold—one of 882 identical pieces they delivered in a stone chest to Cortés himself," Barbossa replies. "Blood money paid to stem the slaughter he wreaked upon them with his armies. But the greed of Cortés was insatiable. So the heathen gods placed upon the gold . . . a terrible curse. Any mortal that removes but a single piece from that stone chest shall be punished for eternity."

I look at the golden skull, which looks ghostly in the flickering shadows. I look back up at Barbossa. His story reminds me of the tales of Davy Jones and other ruthless pirates I read about when I was young. Their stories used to scare me to sleep, but the more I've seen of the world, the less I've believed in tales of sea people and everlasting life.

"I hardly believe in ghost stories anymore, Captain Barbossa," I say incredulously.

"Aye," he agrees, standing up and walking behind my chair. "That's exactly what I thought when we were first told the tale. Buried on an Island of Dead that cannot be found except for those who know where it is." He kneels down beside me.

"Find it, we did. There be the chest. Inside be the gold. And we took 'em all! We spent 'em and traded 'em and frittered 'em away on drink and food and pleasurable company," he says, standing up again and circling back to the other side of my chair. "The more we gave 'em away, the more we came to realize . . . the drink would not satisfy, food turned to ash in our mouths, and all the pleasurable company in the world could not slake our lust. We are cursed men, Miss Turner. Compelled by greed, we were, but now we are consumed by it."

The monkey on its perch shrieks and jumps up and down.

Barbossa's mad. He's mad!

Barbossa turns to pet the monkey and I watch him carefully, slipping my dinner knife beneath the napkin on my lap.

Fear is enveloping me and I know the moment is coming quicker than I can prepare for it.

"There is one way we can end our curse," Barbossa's voice sounds misty and distant as he hands the gold medallion to the monkey, which jumps on his shoulder. "All the scattered pieces of the Aztec gold must be restored and the blood repaid." The monkey jumps down and runs out the door. "Thanks to ye, we have the final piece."

My eyes widen.

"And the . . blood to be repaid?" Oh . . . no . . .

"That's why there's no sense to be killin' ya. Yet," Barbossa smiles. My blood seems to chill within my veins. "Apple?"

My fright and anger finally meet.

I whack the apple out of his hands and brandish my dinner knife. Barbossa laughs.

Do it, Elizabeth, I think, but I can't bring myself. I yell and dart for the door instead, but Barbossa heads me off. I run around a shelf near the door, but Barbossa grabs my arm and I scream, whirling around and thrusting the knife through his body. It plunges through his heart with a sickly, fleshy sound. I gasp and step back at the sight of my knife sticking out of his torso.

Barbossa looks down at the silver. Now he's pulling it out of his chest, the knife dripping with scarlet blood.

"I'm curious—after killin' me what was it that you plannin' on doin' next?"

My jaw drops in horror. I stumble backward and out the door. My only thought is to escape. I walk backwards onto the deck, walking into the moonlight. I turn to run and stop dead in my tracks. My scream never makes it to my throat.

The crew is no longer human. Their skin seems to have decayed away and only skeletons remain, rags covering their bones, grey, black, and filthy. The skeletons scrub the deck of the ship and set the sails, growling and cackling, their brown and silver teeth chattering and their eyeballs wiggling around in their sockets, revealed from beneath wiry, tangled hair.

A scream finally reaches my lips as I'm pulled into a circle of skeletons who are winding around a wooden mast. I shriek and force myself out of their circle. One of my slippers catches a plank of wood and I feel myself airborne. I'm falling. Several feet later I land on a giant piece of cloth, which can only be a sail. I'm thrown up into the air by pirate skeletons who hold the edges of the sail. I can't breathe, I can't think. I can only feel the cold air on my face and then a falling sensation as I drop back onto the sail. Before I know it I'm thrown into the air again, screaming, my arms flailing.

Something snatches me from the air and I'm swung across the ship on a rope. Beside me I see a disgusting, ghostly skeleton, holding me with one bony hand around my waist. I give an ear-splitting scream and we hit the deck. I run, but the skeleton is right on my heels. I flee to the helm of the ship, but the skeleton blocks my escape from the other side of the ship's wheel. He tries to reach across the wheel towards me but I spin it towards myself and his head flings, a cracking noise breaking out into the night. With a snap he replaces his head and turns back to look at me with a growl.

I can't make a single audible noise, so frozen I am with terror. I barrel down the stairs and fling myself behind them, coming to rest in the shadows beneath the helm. I'm finally free from the ghostly pirates. I feel as though my heart has left my chest and is circling through me, heartbeats felt in every inch of my body. My breathing is uncontrollable.

Something moves in the corner of my eye. I jump. Barbossa's monkey hangs from the stairs beside me, bony and skinless. It dangles the medallion from its spindly hand and bares its fangs. I let out another scream and run for the cabin I was held in. I run straight into Barbossa. He grabs me and yanks me around.

"Look!" He orders, forcing me to see the full moon, uncovered by the silver clouds overhead. "The moonlight shows us for what we really are. We are not among the living and so we cannot die, but neither are we dead." The crew stops and assembles before me. Barbossa whips me around to face him.

"For too long I've been parched with thirst and unable to quench it. Too long I've been starving to death and haven't died." He begins to walk towards me and with his every step I match it with a step back.

"I feel nothing—not the wind on my face nor the spray of the sea, nor the warmth of a woman's flesh." His hand reaches out to touch my face but I step just out of reach. His hand reaches the light of the moon and his skin seems to crawl away, leaving nothing but fleshless bone.

"Ya best start believin' in ghost stories, Miss Turner," Barbossa says as the moonlight envelopes the rest of his body, revealing crusty, cracked bones and teeth and two horrific eyeballs. "You're in one." He grabs a bottle of rum, bites off its cork with his filthy teeth, and spits it out. He swallows the rum and the red liquid drips down his spine, staining his ribs like blood.

No more, I think, eyes swimming. I make a break for the cabin and throw myself inside. I hear Barbossa smash his bottle of rum and slam the doors behind me. He cackles and the crew joins in unearthly glee.

I flee to a corner of the cabin and curl up, shivering and hugging my legs to my chest. I'm dripping with perspiration and my hair sticks to my face. I can't seem to catch my breath. Moonlight flows into the room and I pull in my feet to avoid it. I feel like things that are watching me. I can't seem to escape the feeling of the skeleton pirate's boney hand clasping my waist as we soared through the air, nor the image of Barbossa's ribs spattered crimson by rum as it flowed down torso. My heart refuses to stop beating at an outrageous speed and I shudder into the shadows.

Skeletons. The curse. The medallion.

It was all true.

And for the first time in two days, my eyes close without command and I sink into a terrified sleep.


	8. Blood Ritual

The ship rocks. My head tips back and forth. There is carpet on one side of my face, and cold wood on the other. I open my eyes.

The room is deserted. Nothing has been touched. Pale light floats in from the windows. I stare at the ceiling feeling lifeless and cold. I feel as though I will never move again. When they come for me, I'm sure they'll only find my skeleton.

Suddenly memories of the previous night flood my mind. For some reason, however, I hardly feel any emotion. I was so filled with terror at coming face to face with the undead that I feel absolutely drained.

I lay on the floor for another hour. When I force myself to my feet, I stretch and then cross the floor to use the chamberpot. Then I return to my place in the corner. I stretch out my legs and lean my head against the cabinets.

 _Blood to be repaid_ , I hear in my head. Barbossa said they were going to lift the curse—with blood. Mine is the blood to be repaid. I'm the sacrifice. They're going to kill me.

For as long as I have been on the _Pearl_ , I never really thought they would kill me until now. I think of my body lying upon the heaps of gold, bloodless and grey. All my hopes of rescue seem childish now.

 _Maybe_ _Will didn't recognize me in the chaos of that night_ , I think miserably, my breath feeling coarse and cold in my throat. _Maybe he never even considered it was me._

But what about Father? And Commodore Norrington? They would realize I was missing, wouldn't they? Father would. Commodore would send out the _Interceptor_. It's the fastest ship in the caribbean. No other ship can overtake it. But if they were out looking for me . . . surely they would have caught up to the _Pearl_ by now.

My hope evaporates as quickly as it have come. I'm going to die on account of a curse and a treasure.

I climb up onto the table and lean my face against the dirty window. The ocean is dark and untame, suggesting a storm had recently passed. As I look out across the ocean, I think of Port Royal. I miss my Father. I long to see him, even if I can't speak to him, one last time before I die. My eyes sting painfully and I bury my face in the purple skirt of the dress. Suddenly a large mass of black passes the window. I spot it out of the corner of my eye. My head snaps up.

Rocks. We've arrived.

Suddenly I feel the strain of the anchor and the _Pearl_ comes to an abrupt halt. Candles fall off the tables and roll forward. The _Pearl_ evens out and the door to the cabin opens swiftly. Rigetti and Pintel stand in the doorway. More pirates appear behind them.

"Time to go, Poppet," Pintel whispers. My body gives a little jerk of its own accord. I stand up stiffly and they take hold of either arm, leading me out onto the deck. The air is dry and the sky is blue-ish grey. The crew converges on me. I don't fight as they bind my hands with thick rope. There's no use fighting anymore. Rigetti chants under his breath as hands pull my hair behind my shoulders and clasp the golden medallion around my neck. I resist twitching, even though it seems to feel white-hot on my chest. This is the reason I'm going to die.

For the tenth time, I regret ever retrieving the medallion. I should have thrown it into the ocean, then the pirates would never have come to Port Royal. And I would never know that Will was once a pirate.

I'm forced to climb over the side of the ship and down into the rowboat waiting beneath. The crew follows. The rowboat is lowered into the water rowed towards the rocks. My heart feels dead within my chest.

I am just wondering if they are considering drowning me when I see an opening in the large, black rock mass ahead of us. The mouth of a cave. The four rowboats enter it and darkness envelopes us.

The only sound is the slapping of the waves against the rowboats and the erratic pounding of my heart. No one speaks for a few minutes. I can't even see the oars propelling us forward. Suddenly our boat scrapes the bottom of the sea floor. We've hit ground.

Torches are lit and the cave comes to life. I'm pulled out of the rowboat and forced ashore, with pirates in front and in back of me. We turn a corner into the cave and light shines down through its ceiling. I can't believe it. Mounds of glowing gold are piled high all around us. Sparkling jewels, glistening silver, expensive statues and precious trinkets. Pirates pass on either side of me, carrying chests and barrels full of plunder. They throw them unceremoniously onto the piles of treasure. Suddenly I stop mid-step, seeing Barbossa on top of the piles of gold and stand beside a large, stone chest.

The chest of Cortés.

"Move," someone pushes me forward towards Barbossa. I splash through the small river flowing through the cave, soaking my slippers. I climb up the pile of gold towards the pirate captain, who stands at the top.

My body is trembling. _I'm going to die. I'm going to die_.

Someone pushes me so I'm standing beside Barbossa, who is grinning with an evil glint in his eyes.

"Gentlemen, the time is come!" He shouts loudly, right arm raised. I flinch. His voice echoes eerily throughout the cave.

The crew yells in anticipation, raising their swords and torches in triumph.

"Our salvation is nigh!" Barbossa bellows, followed by a shout of the crew. "Our torment is near an end."

Another resounding yell.

"For ten years we've been tested and tried, and each man jack of you here has proved his mettle a hundred times over—and a hundred times again!"

Their shrieks echo in agreement.

"Suffered I have!" Shouts Rigetti, his wooden eye swirling.

"Punished we were, the lot of us, disproportionate to our crimes!" Barbossa smacks his fist on a flat hand. I glance around me—searching, searching, all in vain, for a way of escape. The only entrance I can see is the way in which we came in, but there is no possible way to get there, not with my hands tied and the pirates staring right at me. They'd shoot me the minute I moved.

"Here it is!" Barbossa growls, shoving the lid of the stone chest off with his foot. I gasp and step backward. There lay the 881 pieces lying in the chest, just as Barbossa had described.

"The cursed treasure of Cortés himself," Barbossa runs his hand over the gold. "And every last piece that went astray, we have returned—save for this!" He points at me and the crew shouts ever louder.

 _Make this end. Make it stop_.

"881 we found but despaired of ever finding the last, searching and searching for the one that can free us from our doom!" He cries, followed by the pirates echoing shout.

"We took out of greed! Sought out of desperation—to lead us here where we are now! As fate would have it we found the last, and we bring it here before the heathen gods to pay it back to them!"

Another shout.

"And who among us has paid the blood sacrifice owed to the heathen gods?"

"Us!" Cry the pirates.

"And whose blood must yet be paid?"

"Hers!"

My throat is seizing up.

"You know the first thing I'm gonna do after the curse is lifted?" The captain laughs and turns to me. "Eat a whole bushel of apples." I stare at him in disgust. He grabs my shoulder and holds me over the stone chest. I see him grab a yellowed knife off the top of the pile of gold. He raises it up.

 _I'm going to die. I'm going to die._

"Hoo. Hoo. Hoo. Hoo," The crew chants. I can't stop my mouth from falling open.

"Begun by blood—" Barbossa barks.

"Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!"

"—by blood undone."

"HOO! HOO! HOO!"

Barbossa rips the medallion from my neck and grabs my left hand, slicing it open with the yellow knife he holds. I gasp in pain and then look from the medallion to him.

"That's it?" I gasp. He looks at me.

"Waste not," he replies. He grasps the medallion in my bleeding hand, turns it over, and releases the medallion onto the pile of gold pieces. The chanting stops.

The medallion hits the surface, dripping in my blood.

Barbossa releases my hand and I look down at it, gasping and resisting the hotness of my eyes. The cut looks remarkably deep.

I look up to see the crew standing motionless. Some of them have their eyes closed. Others stare at Barbossa. There is no sound, not even a jingle of gold.

One by one, they open their eyes.

"Did it work?" Asks a pirate with dreadlocks.

"I don't feel no different," Rigetti says.

"How do we tell?" Pintel demands. Barbossa pulls out a long, gold gun from his belt. A shot rings out. A hole is blown through Pintel's jacket. Pintel looks down at it.

"You're not dead," accuses the pirate with dreadlocks.

"No," laughs Pintel, before glaring up at Barbossa. "He shot me!"

"It didn't work," Rigetti says.

"The curse is still upon us!" Shouts another pirate.

The crew begins to grumble.

 _It didn't work. They got the wrong blood. It wasn't my blood they needed . . ._

Barbossa rounds on me.

"You! Maid! Your father, what was his name? Was your father William Turner?" He shakes me by the shoulders.

"No," I say angrily. _You deserve to be cursed. You deserve to rot in Hell._

"Where's his child?" He shakes me again and then pushes me away. He picks up the medallion stained with my blood. "The child that sailed from England eight years ago, the child in whose veins flows the blood of William Turner?"

I look down at the medallion.

 _I know whose blood they need._

"Where?" Snarls Barbossa. I look up at him smugly, not saying a word. He growls and hits the side of my face. I fall face first down the pile of gold.

Something cold and wet grasps my mouth. I jerk awake.

The very person I have been aching to see, the very person whose blood the pirates need, floats in the water before me.

Will gestures with his index finger to be quiet and to follow him. His other hand briefly touches my face.

 _Is Will really here? How? I'm I really going to leave with him?_

But I can't leave. Not without—

I turn around and see the medallion lying in the dirt. I snatch it up and put it around my neck, quietly following Will into the water. It's cold and dark, but I grasp Will's hand with my good one beneath the water, which goes well over my head. We swim as quickly as we can, while the voices of angry pirates bounce off the cave walls. Finally Will climbs out of the water and helps me out. My dress clings to me in odd places and my slippers must have been lost somewhere along the way. Dirt sticks to the bottom of my feet as Will leads me around the piles of gold. I squeeze his hand ever tighter as we sneak past the the hoard of pirates, who seem to be turning on Barbossa, but somehow we make it past them undetected.

Will leads the way to a rowboat and climbs in after me, shoving off the shore and out of the mouth of the cave.

I don't believe it.

I've been rescued.


	9. The Fastest Ship in the Caribbean

_I'm not dead. Will's here._ I can hardly contain myself. Now all I want is to get as far away from that cave as possible.

"Will, how did you get here?" I ask, cradling my bleeding hand.

"Commandeered a ship," Will says behind me.

"Will," I say disbelievingly, just as a great naval ship comes into view. The _Interceptor_ , the ship commanded by Commodore Norrington himself, is floating in the middle of the ocean.

"Will, how could you? You're just a—"

"Blacksmith, I know," Will retorts. "I had some help. Elizabeth—"

I turn to look at him. He said my name. He called me Elizabeth, not Miss Swann.

"Why did they take you?" He asks quietly.

"Because I invoked the right of parley against them. It seemed the only way to negotiate with them and save Port Royal. I traded a pirate medallion for the safety of Port Royal," I say quickly. "Apparently that's what they had come for."

"A pirate medallion?" Will asks suddenly, pausing in his rowing.

"Yes," I say quietly, looking down at my injured hand. _Should I tell him?_ _Tell him he might be a pirate? . . . No. It would ruin him._

"Then they asked my name," I move on quickly. " I thought it would only put me in more danger to say who I really was, so I said my name was Elizabeth Turner. Then Barbossa refused to release me once the parley was complete. He took me hostage."

"Why?" Will asks. I look back at him briefly, unsure if he'll believe me.

"Barbossa said he and his crew took 882 pieces of gold from the Island of the Dead—"

"Isla de Muerta," Will interrupts. I look at him in surprise.

"Yes."

"I . . I've heard of it," he admits.

"Well, Barbossa said all those who take from that stone chest are instantly cursed. I didn't believe him at first . . ." I trail off and look at Will. He looks at me and I lean towards him.

"Will. I _saw_ them. It's true. They are cursed. They turn into skeletons when they're in the moonlight. It was . . ." I pause. ". . . terrifying. This morning they brought me to Isla de Muerta. They slit open my hand to use my blood as a sacrifice to lift the curse."

"So that was why they took you?" Will assumes. I nod.

"I thought for sure they were going to slit my throat but they didn't. I can't tell you how afraid I was that they were going to kill me." I look down and wipe my eyes.

 _If only I could tell you that out of the two days I was held captive, I mostly only thought of you._

Suddenly we reach the side of the ship. I climb up and jump down onto the deck. I look up, seeing not the red suits of the navy officers as I was expecting, but a band of wild men I do not know. One has a blue and yellow parrot on his shoulder.

"Not more pirates," I say.

"Welcome aboard, Miss Elizabeth," one of the men steps forward. His beard is gray and white, and he has a balding head and small eyes. A memory flashes before my eyes. A sailor who accompanied my Father and I on our crossing from England . . .

"Mr. Gibbs?" I say, just as Will climbs aboard beside me. Gibbs turns to Will, his smile disappearing.

"Hey, Boy, where be Jack?"

I look at Will.

"Jack? Jack Sparrow?"

"He fell behind," Will replies with a meaningful glance at Gibbs. Gibbs looks down. I look back at Will, but he gives me no explanation. He grabs hold of my hand and leads me below deck.

"So, in order to rescue me you enlisted the help of a pirate?" I accuse, as Will takes two blankets from a nearby hammock and wraps one around me and then around himself.

"I did what I had to," he replies.

"But Jack Sparrow? Why? What about Commodore?" Will shoots me a look. Resentment is in his eyes.

"The commodore had plenty on his plate. He didn't have time to worry about rescuing you."

I know Will meant for me to feel a sting by his words, but I don't.

"So, seeing as Jack was once captain of the _Black Pearl_ , I figured his motivation to find the _Pearl_ would be greater than that of Commodore's."

My jaw drops.

"Sparrow? Captain of the _Black Pearl?_ " I say. Will nods. Then my eyes narrow.

"Jack didn't really fall behind, did he?" I guess. Will doesn't look away from my eyes and says nothing, but he confirms my assumption all the same. I look away from him and down at the cut on my hand. Will notices it.

"Here." He rips a piece of cloth from his blanket and hands it to me to use as a bandage. I sit down at a table beside us, illuminated by candles. Will sits down opposite of me. I wrap the piece of cloth around my hand, momentarily stemming the blood flow.

"I had to rescue you and I knew unless I left something behind, Barbossa and his crew would follow and soon overtake us. I had to leave something behind to give us time."

"So you left Jack," I say. I feel no allegiance to Jack, but I can't believe that Will conceived this idea. He's a blacksmith from Port Royal, and yet now he has stolen a naval ship, enlisted the help of a pirate, and then left the pirate to die. What happened to the Will I once knew?

"What sort of man trades a man's life for a ship?" I say, trying for the third time to properly wrap the bandage around my hand.

"Pirate," Will says without hesitation. He takes my hands and I stop immediately.

"Here. Let me," he says softly.

"Thank you," I say. His hands are rough and calloused, the hands of a blacksmith. However, he binds up my hand very well.

"You said you gave Barbossa my name as yours," he looks up at me. "Why?"

"I don't know," I lie. Suddenly the bandage tightens and I pull my hand back and gasp.

"I'm sorry," Will says. "Blacksmith's hands—I know they're rough."

"No," I say. "I-I-I mean yes, they are, but . . ."

Will ties the knot ever so softly.

"But don't stop," I say, looking up at him. His eyes meet mine, slowly taking in the meaning of my words. I lean forward and he puts a hand to my cheek. His hands feels so good . . .

 _I have to tell him. He has to know whose blood they need._

 _Stop it Elizabeth. Not now._

 _He has to know!_

"Elizabeth," Will whispers, our faces inches from each other. Suddenly I pull back quickly. I still hold his wrist however, stroking it with my fingers. I guide his hand down towards my chest where I let go and hold up the medallion. Will's fingers linger for a moment before taking the necklace.

"It's yours," I say, ripping it lightly from my neck. His eyes widen with realization.

"I thought I'd lost it the day they rescued me," he says in wonder. "It was a gift from my father. He sent it to me."

I look down. _Will knew._

"Why did you take it?" Will demands. My breath chokes in my throat.

"Because I was afraid that you were a pirate," I say. "That would have been awful."

Will looks down at the medallion, understanding coming to his eyes.

"It wasn't your blood they needed."

 _What have I done?_

"It was my father's blood."

 _Elizabeth, how could you?_

"My blood." Will curls his fist around the medallion.

 _He'll never forgive you._

"The blood of a pirate."

"Will, I'm so sorry, please forgive me," I plead, but he hits the table with his fist in anger.

 _He will never forgive me,_ I think again. I stand up to leave. Will looks up at me in surprise but I refuse to stay a moment longer. I can't believe what I've done to him.

I leave him sitting at the table, staring down at the foreboding skeleton's smile engraved upon the medallion.

Suddenly the ship starts to rock seemingly out of control. I slid against a wall and try and regain my balance. What was happening?

I make my way to the stairs and climb up. I open the deck door to the sea air. My hair spins around my face in messy swirls.

"Hands aloft to loose t'gallants!" Gibbs is shouting. "With this wind, she'll carry every sail we've got!"

The crew of men and boys climb like mad over the ropes to set the sails. Wind blows violently on my face as I climb out from below deck, shutting the door behind me.

"What's happening?" I call to Gibbs over the roar of the wind and the shouting of the crew.

"The _Black Pearl,_ " answers a woman's voice behind Gibbs. She stands at the wheel as first mate. The woman looks over her shoulder. "She's gaining on us."

I run to the side of the ship and climb onto the ropes, looking at the back of the ship.

Through the mist comes the black form and ragged sails of the _Pearl._

 _No._ For a moment I can't feel, I can't think. And then one thought clears my head.

 _We can't let them catch us._

I approach Gibbs.

"This is the fastest ship in the Caribbean," I say.

"You can tell them that after they've caught us," the woman at the wheel snaps. I look behind me for some sort of escape route. Then my eye catches a glimpse of white sands close by. Areas of shallow water: shoals. A plan begins to formulate in my mind. _If we can get close enough to those shoals that might scare the pirates off. They might be too hesitant to follow. The_ Interceptor's _draft—the depth of water necessary for a ship to float—must be shallower than the_ Pearl. _It's worth a try._

"We're shallower on the draft, right?" I ask the woman.

"Aye," she says, sounding confused.

"Well, then can't we lose them amongst those shoals?" I prompt, looking back at Gibbs. He follows my gaze and looks back at the woman.

"We don't have to outrun them long, just long enough," Gibbs agrees.

"Lighten the ship, stem to stern!" The first mate shouts to her crew.

"Anything we can afford to lose, see that it's lost," yells Gibbs. The crew jumps down from their posts and runs below deck. They come up holding barrels and crates. Some carry rope and others hand each other cannonballs, throwing them over the side. Everything heavy must be lost.

We approach the shoals at a satisfactory speed. I look to my right at the shoals and back at the _Pearl._ My breathing quickens. We might not make it.

"It was a good plan," says the woman at the wheel. "Up till now."

"Gibbs!" A voice says behind me. I spin around.

"We have to make a stand," Will says. "We must fight! Load the guns!"

"With what?" The first mate says.

"Anything. Everything! Anything we have left."

He's right. I should never have assumed the _Pearl_ could be scared away. The devil himself leads that ship.

"Load the guns!" Gibbs yells, jumping down to help the crew. "Case shot and langrage! Nails and crushed glass!"

Will looks back at me but says nothing. A moment ago we were both angry that I had stolen his medallion. How minor a problem that seems now. We're going to die.

Will turns and I run after him to prepare to fight. I'm not sure that I can do much, but (heaven help me) I will do what I can.

Will hands up rifles to me from below and I hand them off to the sailors, who are now loading cannons with glass bottles, utensils, and anything else that's sharp. I look back at the _Pearl,_ which is so close I can see a figure standing beside the wheel. Barbossa.

"The _Pearl's_ gonna luff up on our port quarter!" Gibbs comes running up behind me. "She'll rake us without ever presenting a target."

 _Unless we stop._

"Lower the anchor on the right side," I say as Will comes up behind me. The woman, Gibbs, and Will all look at me and say nothing.

"On the starboard side!" I say, looking at Will.

"It certainly has the element of surprise," he agrees, turning to Gibbs.

"You're daft, lady! You both are!" The woman accuses.

"Daft like Jack!" Gibbs says with a smile, turning to the crew and giving the order. The crew scrambles to lower the anchor. They turn the wheel and the chain is released. The moment the anchor hits the bottom of the ocean the entire ship rocks. Planks rip from the bottom of the ship. Something is holding the ship back . . . we're going to flip!

I look back at the first mate the helm. Her knuckles are white from holding the wheel.

"Let go!" I shout to her. She releases the wheel and it spins, righting the ship back on balance. It turns around in the water just as the _Pearl_ comes up beside us. The crew prepares for battle. I kneel beside Will, who readies his rifle. The pirates of the _Pearl_ leer at us, drawing their swords. Captain Barbossa himself draws his sword, his horrible monkey perched atop his shoulder. The _Interceptor's_ crew cock their rifles and brandish their blades.

"Now!" Yells Will.

"Fire!" Barbossa shouts.


	10. The Interceptor's Doom

"Fire all!" I scream. Cannons go off and smoke erupts. Wooden planks fly from both ships and a pirate falls into the ocean. I cling to some ropes for support. Just then I see a cannon aimed right at me. I run down from the helm, covering my head.

Across the ship, Gibbs is shooting a rifle and taking cover behind the rail of the ship. I crouch low and crawl towards him, trying to avoid the bullets being shot around me. Some miss me by inches. My eyes sting and the smoke reaches them. Cannonballs blast into the side of the _Interceptor_ and the _Pearl_.

Suddenly I feel a hand on my shoulder. I tense and whirl around. Will is beside me, holding a rifle. I crouch beside him. He straightens, aims, and shoots. I hear a scream and see a pirate fall overboard from off the _Pearl._ I'm surprised at Will for a brief moment. Being a blacksmith I thought he only made the weapons, not used them. He hands me the rifle and takes another one from his side. I pour more powder down into the barrel and shove a lead ball down inside it.

"We could use a few more ideas, lass," Gibbs says as Will shoots once more. He switches guns with me.

"It's your turn," I say roughly.

"We need us a devil's dowry," Gibbs says.

"We'll give them her," says a voice from beside me. The first mate holds a flintlock up to my cheek, a crazed look on her face. I look back and forth between her, Will, and Gibbs.

"She's not what they're after," Will protests. _Of course._

My hand flies to my chest and I look down.

"The medallion," I hiss to Will. He hands me his rifle swiftly and stands. I watch him run below deck. He must have left the medallion on the table.

I look back at the pirates and take a deep breath. I can no longer sit still and watch the battle ensue without me. I will not let the _Interceptor_ be overtaken—but this will be the first time I've shot to kill. I stand up, aim, and then flex my index finger, feeling the kickback of the gun. I barely miss the pirate with dreadlocks and I kneel back down quickly as he looks my way.

I'm cleaning my rifle when I see the pirates converging and lowering ropes from the sails.

"Prepare to board!" I hear Barbossa bark.

A cannon goes off and I hear a loud _snap._ Our mainmast splits cleanly in half and falls slowly, clearly intending to rest right where Gibbs and I hide. I grab his arm and turn him to look at the lowering mast.

"Look out!" I shout as we dart out of the way. The mast hits the side of our ship, breaking through the wooden railing, and reaching across the ocean to fall halfway onto the _Pearl._ I cover my head with my arms. Dust scatters and for a small moment, everything is silent. I move each of my limbs to make sure they are all still intact. I release a breath when I find that they are.

Just then, shots begin to ring out once more. I hear Barbossa shouting orders. Grappling hooks fly into the air and secure themselves onto our ship. The pirates are boarding.

I continue to shoot, finally catching one of the pirate's hands, who screams in pain. I quickly clean my rifle as a pirate swings over his head. I hit him square in the back and blood spatters over the deck. He buckles, but stands up again slowly.

The pirates are still immortal.

I shoot again, trying to disarm him somehow, but I know it's a lost cause. Barbossa's crew cannot be killed.

Someone grabs me from behind and I hit his face with the barrel of my gun. He drops to the deck. I run forward to hit another pirate across the face with my palm. Suddenly a pirate grabs my elbow and raises his sword. But someone stops his hand. I look around the pirate to see none other than the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow.

He looks the same as when he first rescued me. Matted, long, brown hair and strings of dangling beads, a red cloth around his forehead. I feel a familiar sense of resentment towards him.

"That's not very nice," Sparrow scolds the pirate. I grab hold of an oar at my side and I hit my attacker in the face with the end of it. He tumbles overboard. Gunshots ring out and bullets barely miss me. Sparrow grabs my shoulders and pulls me down beside him into a crouch.

"Where's the medallion?" He asks me.

"Wretch!" I shout, trying to slap him. He grabs my wrist and stops me, glancing down at my bandaged hand.

"Aah," a smile grows on his filthy face. "Where's dear William?"

My stomach seems to swallow my heart.

"Will," I whisper, turning around to look at the deck door. I run towards it amongst the fighting pirates and shooting crewmembers. Bullets fly past me. I kneel beside the deck door.

"Will!" I cry, looking through the holes in the door. He's right below me and covered in water, which seems to be shooting out of the walls.

The _Interceptor_ must be sinking.

"Elizabeth!" He yells up to me. I have to get him out before he drowns! I pull at the door but something is keeping it closed. I try to move wood and debris off of the door but it still doesn't not budge. My breath is slowly slipping away. _I can't get him out. I can't get him out._

"I can't move it!" I gasp to Will in desperation.

Suddenly large hands grab hold of me and I'm pulled away from the cargo door.

"Will!" I screech, fighting the hands that hold me. I fight and kick and slap and squirm. Two pirates hold both of my arms and I am helpless against them.

"Gents, our hope is restored!" Barbossa calls from the _Pearl_. Somehow he's obtained the medallion. I look around at the _Interceptor's_ crew. They stand motionless and empty-handed. Barbossa's deranged crew surrounds us. It seems we have surrendered.

I struggle against my captors, looking back at the cargo door which still has not been opened. I cannot hear Will's voice any longer. My throat burns red-hot.

I'm forced at gunpoint to walk across the _Interceptor's_ fallen mast and onto the _Black Pearl_ once more.

 _I thought I would never set foot on this filthy ship again._

The crew follows behind me, each sailor accompanied by a pirate. The pirates surround me and the crew, wrapping a giant rope around us and tying us to the mast. I'm squished between the crewman with the parrot, a man half as tall as me, and Gibbs.

I have to escape somehow. Will might still be alive. There might still be time. All of a sudden I notice a small amount of space between me and the rope. Ever so slowly, I begin to wriggle free.

The last two pirates now board the _Pearl._ Suddenly we begin to pull away from the _Interceptor._ I'm not yet free of the rope, and I watch as we float away from _Interceptor._ From my freedom. From Will.

I feel as though my heart is sinking with the _Interceptor_.

Barbossa's crew circles us. Pintel holds out his gun threateningly. I look down but continue to slowly loosen myself from the rope that holds us tight.

"Any of you so much as thinks the word 'parley,' I'll have your guts for garters," Pintel warns us.

And just like that, I'm free. I pull the rope over my head with every intention to jump overboard to save Will, but just as I'm approaching the side of the ship, before my very eyes the _Interceptor_ explodes. A mushroom of fire consumes the ship, followed by a great cloud of smoke. Wood and debris fly into the air, high above the masts.

I stop cold in my tracks.

"Will," I say.

No breath enters my lungs. I can't feel. I can't think.

Cruel laughs echo in my ears.

Barbossa stands in front of me, twirling the medallion in his fingers. I have never felt such loathing towards a single person—or demon, rather—in my entire life. I want to blow a hole right through his forehead. Every second I'm not causing him pain in some form or another is a second unbearable.

I run forward and throw myself onto the captain.

"You've got to stop it!" I scream, trying with all my might to scar him in some way. He restrains me easily.

"Welcome back, miss. You took advantage of our hospitality last time. It holds fair now you return the favor," he laughs, pushing me towards the ghastly pirates. I scream and stumble towards them. They grab my arms, my dress, my waist. Their fingers tangle through my hair—

"Barbossa!" A voice shouts, and everyone stops.

"Will," I say. _He's alive._

Will jumps down onto the deck, sopping wet. He grabs a flintlock lying in the pile of weapons taken from the captives. He holds it up to the _Pearl's_ captain.

"She goes free," he shouts. His voice is determined and without fear.

"What's in your head, boy?" Barbossa approaches him. I struggle against the pirates holding me.

"She goes free," Will repeats menacingly.

"You've only got one shot, and we can't die," Barbossa says. Poor Will must have picked up Sparrow's flintlock.

"Don't do anything stupid," hisses a voice in the corner. Sparrow himself.

Will runs backward suddenly and climbs upon the railing of the ship, steadying himself against the ropes of the sails.

"You can't," he says, and points the barrel of the gun at his throat. "I can."

 _Will, no. Not now that you're alive._ I squirm but the pirates hold me back once more.

"Who are you?" Barbossa demands.

"No one, he's no one," interjects Sparrow, somehow freeing himself and running between Will and Barbossa. "A distant cousin of my aunt's nephew twice removed. Lovely singing voice, though." _Why on earth is Sparrow covering for Will? What need is Will to Sparrow?_ I wonder. _Oh. Of course. Sparrow intends to trade Will for the_ Pearl. _There can be no other explanation._ I clench my jaw in anger.

"My name is Will Turner," Will announces. "My father was Bootstrap Bill Turner. His blood runs in my veins."

"He's the spitting image of old Bootstrap Bill come back to haunt us," Rigetti yells out.

I look around at the crew, who are stirring uneasily. Every second Will stands there is another he's in danger. Forget the crew and Sparrow. Will must leave this ship alive.

"On my word, do as I say, or I'll pull this trigger and be lost to Davy Jones' locker," Will threatens.

"Name your terms, Mr. Turner," Barbossa says in a low voice.

"Elizabeth goes free," Will shouts.

"Yes, we know that one. Anything else?"

"And the crew," Will points briefly with the flintlock. "The crew are not to be harmed."

Barbossa steps forward slowly.

"Agreed," he growls, his voice full of satisfaction.

 _No. Will cannot trade himself for my freedom. They are not likely to make the same mistake they did with me. They'll spill all his blood, I'll never see him again . . ._

Barbossa nods to the pirates holding me and suddenly I'm released. I fall to the ground briefly, before immediately getting back up. I look at Will as I rise. His eyes look strange.

Of course. He knows what is coming. He knows what he's doing. He knows we'll never see each other again.

"Come about," Barbossa orders, and the ship's crew obeys. I look to my right and see a speck of land in the distance. A small, white beach, with nothing on it but a clump of palm trees.

Upon Will's word, they're going to leave me here.

Will drops his pistol and it clatters upon the deck. The pirates rush over and grab him. He struggles briefly, but with no intention of escape.

Suddenly a long, wooden plank is pushed out beside me. Pirates begin to draw their swords, pointing them towards me.

"Go on, Poppet, go!" Pintel shouts. "Walk the plank!"

The pirates laugh at my discomfort as their blades come ever closer. Soon I have no choice but to step over the railing and onto the wooden plank. I turn around and hold my skirt in my arms, looking down at the blue ocean which seems farther below than it really is.

I inch my bare toes closer to the edge of the plank.

 _I have to jump. There is no alternative._


	11. Jack Sparrow's Secret

"You swore she'd go free!" Will's angry voice curses Barbossa from behind me. I turn around.

"Don't dare impugn me honor, boy. I agreed she'd go free, but it was you who failed to specify when or where," Barbossa laughs. The crew follows suit. Will glares at the captain hatefully as the pirates stuff a piece of cloth into his mouth, gagging him. They push him away and hold him at gunpoint.

Barbossa looks at me.

"Though does seem a shame to lose something so fine, don't it?"

The crew sniggers in agreement. Barbossa steps forward with an outstretched hand.

"So I'll be having that dress back before you go," he says.

I feel no embarrassment, only anger. I unlace the front of my dress and pull it off of me, revealing the chemise beneath. I fold up the dress and fling it at Barbossa.

"Goes with your black heart," I snarl at him, ignoring the whistles and laughs by the pirates and avoiding Will's gaze.

I turn back around to look at the blue sea and the spot of land in the distance. I walk slowly back toward the edge of the plank.

"Off you go!" Someone calls.

"Come on!" Pintel shouts. I turn around to take one last look at Will, one last look forever.

 _I'll never see him again._

"Too long!" Shouts a burly pirate and suddenly I'm thrown off balance. With a squeal, I fall towards the ocean, arms flailing. Water engulfs me and salt fills my mouth. Bubbles swim through my vision. I float motionless for a moment, dazed by what has just happened. A second more and then I'm swimming upwards and breaking through the surface, gasping for air. I look at the wooden plank above me. I hear laughing and murmuring. I long to climb up the edge of the ship, but I know I would only be forced back into the water. There is no other option. I decide to swim to shore.

I feel heavy in the water as I swim towards land. The water is warm and reflects the sun. My muscles ache. When I'm about halfway towards land, I hear a splash from behind me. I turn around. Another figure has been pushed into the ocean. I wait for a moment, but no one appears from beneath the water.

Maybe it wasn't a person. Maybe just a piece of useless cargo.

I look up at the ship, trying to catch a glimpse of Will, but there is no sign of him.

Suddenly, a man comes up sputtering from beneath the water. Jack Sparrow has walked the plank as well.

Angrily, I turn around and resume swimming for shore.

 _If being marooned on a deserted island all by myself wasn't bad enough. Now I'm stuck with the one pirate I hate most, except for Barbossa._

Sparrow swims much faster than me and by the time I'm walking up onto the beach, he's right behind me. My limbs feel weak from swimming. With a despairing feeling, I turn around to watch the _Pearl_ fade into the distance.

"That's the second time I've had to watch that man sail away with my ship," Sparrow says dejectedly. I can't stand to stay with him a second more. I pick up my skirt and walk away.

 _I'm marooned on an island._

 _Never in my wildest dreams did I guess I would end up here someday._

The _Pearl_ is no more than a speck on the ocean now. What I would give to be back on that ship.

My mind starts whirring. There has to be off this island. Perhaps something has washed ashore. Wood, supplies—anything. Anything we can use to escape.

As I walk along the beach, my eyes turn to the island. It seems to be nothing but grass, palm trees and sand. Barbossa couldn't have picked a more cruel place to leave us stranded. The sand sticks to my feet and the sun beats down on my skin. I wipe perspiration from my forehead. A few days and I'll be dead in this heat. There must be a way to escape. I'll cut down some palm trees and build a raft if I have to.

 _Nothing to cut with, Elizabeth. No rope either._

Suddenly, I see someone lying on the beach in the distance. There's someone else here! I begin to run towards the figure, but as I approach him, I'm startled. There are beads in his hair. He's barefoot and looking at a flintlock holding a single bullet.

Jack Sparrow.

I look up at the beach. Footprints lead away. My footprints.

"It's really not all that big, is it?" Sparrow says from beside me, fingering his gun.

"If you're going to shoot me please do so without delay," I reply.

"Is there a problem between us, Miss Swann?"

"You were going to tell Barbossa about Will in exchange for a ship."

"We could use a ship," Sparrow says loudly. "The fact is I was going to _not_ tell Barbossa about Will in exchange for a ship because as long as he didn't know about Will, I had something to bargain with. Which now no one has, thanks to stupid Will." Sparrow stands up and I look down.

 _So Will sacrificed his life for nothing._

"Oh," I mutter.

"Oh," Sparrow repeats angrily, putting his gun away in his belt.

"He still risked his life to save ours," I point out.

"Hah!" Sparrow laughs. He starts walking towards the palm trees.

"So we have to do something to rescue him!" I run after him.

"Off you go then! Let me know how that turns out," he shoos me away.

"But you were marooned on this island before, weren't you? So we can escape same way you did then!" I protest.

"To what point and purpose, young missy?" He rounds on me. "The _Black Pearl_ is gone. Unless you have a rudder and sails hidden in that bodice," his eyes travel down my body, "unlikely. Young Mr. Turner will be dead long before you can reach him."

The pirate turns around and begins to knock on the trunks of palm trees. I hardly notice what he's doing. My only thoughts are on the idea of Will. Dead. I thought he had drowned less than two hours ago, only to find out that he is actually alive. I'm not about to give up yet.

"But you're Captain Jack Sparrow," I say, my thoughts flashing back to some books I read when I was fourteen.

"You vanished from seven agents of the East India Company, you sacked Nassau Port without even firing a shot. Are you the pirate I've read about or not?" I demand, stepping closer to him. "How did you escape last time?"

Sparrow's eyes look at me regrettably. His hands find their way to my shoulders.

"Last time, I was here a grand total of three days, all right?" He confesses. Then he bends down to wipe away some sand beneath him.

 _He stayed here for three whole days? That doesn't sound like Jack Sparrow at all._

"Last time," he opens a wooden door that is hidden beneath the sand, "the rumrunners used this island as a cache, came by, and I was able to barter passage off." He climbs down some wooden steps where I see shelves and crates full of bottles of brown liquid. "From the looks of things, they've long been out of business."

I walk a bit closer as Sparrow curses something about Commodore Norrington and my jaw drops. _That_ is how Jack Sparrow survived? That is how he escaped?

 _How pathetic._

"So that's it, then?" I struggle to contain the anger in my voice. "That's the secret, grand adventure if the infamous Jack Sparrow? You spent three days lying on a beach, drinking rum?"

Sparrow, who now faces me, lowers his eyes. Then he smiles mockingly and holds up the two bottles in either hand.

"Welcome to the caribbean, love," he grins and pushes past me, walking down towards the beach.

"So, is there any truth to the other stories?" I ask him, the little pirate girl inside me thinking out loud.

"Truth?"

Sparrow looks right at me and pulls up his right sleeve, revealing the same vicious-looking brand of the letter "P" that I saw when Sparrow first came to Port Royal. It's an obvious brand given to pirates by the East India Company. He then lifts up his left sleeve, showing a reddish-brown scar from his sacking at Naussau Port. Finally, he pulls back his shirt to show me two bullet holes.

"No truth at all," Sparrow says. He sits down, uncorking a bottle of rum. "We still have a month, maybe more. Keep a weather eye open for passing ships and our chances are fair." He takes a swig of rum.

"And what about Will?" I ask hopelessly. "We have to do something."

Sparrow swallows.

"You're absolutely right." He rolls me the bottle he just drank from.

"Here's luck to you, Will Turner," Sparrow takes another bottle from his side and raises it up. With a sigh, I pick up the bottle that rests at my feet and uncork it, sitting down beside the pirate. I look down at the rum.

 _No point in abstaining anymore._

"Drink up me hearties, yo ho," I say, putting the bottle to my lips and taking a gulp. It's disgusting.

"What was that, Elizabeth?" Sparrow asks.

"It's Miss Swann," I correct, throwing him a glare.

Sparrow puts up his hands.

"Nothing," I say. "Just a song I learned as a child, when I actually thought it would be exciting to meet a pirate."

"Let's hear it," Sparrow says.

"No."

"Come on, we got the time. Let's have it."

"No!" I repeat, looking out at the ocean. "I'd have to have a lot more to drink." I swallow some more rum.

Sparrow says nothing for a moment. Then he looks at me and smiles.

"How much more?"

I look down at the bottle of rum in my hands.

 _We_ do _have the time . . ._

* * *

The sky is turning orange and violet. We've sat on the beach until Sparrow has repeated the song back to me without error. I know I will regret teaching him that later. That is, if we ever get off this island.

As the sky turns more colorful, Sparrow wakes up from a doze, stands up, and stretches.

"Time to build a fire." He walks away into the palm trees.

I look down at the bottle of rum still clutched in my hand. It is now half full. I scold myself silently and stand up to follow the pirate. I walk over to a large clump of fallen palm trees and begin to gather up some of the pieces of trunk. When I put the wood into a pile on the beach, Sparrow has already returned with a larger pile and is beginning to start the fire by rubbing two pieces of wood together. He blows on the wood and a spark ignites, slowly spreading to the rest of the firewood.

I run back and forth carrying fuel for the fire. The pile of wood grows bigger and bigger. When we finally decide we have enough wood, I collapse onto the sand and close my eyes. A cool breeze blows past and the fire crackles beside me. I look out at the setting sun, the sky erupting into a mixture of gold and scarlet. The water has turned a deeper blue and reflects the yellow rays of the sunset. Clouds scatter the sky, turning peach and then fading into lavender wisps.

I sigh. My heart feels sore and tired, but I also feel something I've never before experienced. My heart is aching.

 _I will get off this island. I_ will _find Will._

"We pillage, we plunder, we rifle and loot. Drink up me hearties yo ho!" I sing under my breath. I feel a deeper ache.

"We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot," comes Sparrow's voice beside me. I look at him and he smiles.

"Drink up me hearties yo ho!" I continue in defeat.

"Yo ho, yo ho a pirate's life for me," Sparrow joins in.

"We extort and pilfer, we filch and sack. Drink up me hearties, yo ho," I sing, sitting up.

"Maraud and embezzle and even highjack. Drink up me hearties, yo ho!" Sparrow shouts and stands up. I laugh.

 _You haven't laughed in a long time, Elizabeth._

 _It feels good._

"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me. We kindle and char and inflame and ignite. Drink up me hearties, yo ho. We burn up the city, we're really a fright. Drink up me hearties, yo ho. Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me."

Sparrow runs around the fire and spins in the sand. I pick up my bottle of rum, take a sip, and begin to skip around the fire.

"We're rascals and scoundrels, we're villians and knaves. Drink up me hearties, yo ho. We're devils and black sheep, we're really bad eggs. Drink up me hearties, yo ho. Yo ho, yo ho! A pirate's life for me!"

"I love this song!" Sparrow shouts into the night.

I link his elbow with mine and twirl around, giggling.

"Really—bad eggs!" Sparrow says, and I notice his voice sounds slightly off. _He's half drunk already_.

He confirms my theory when he falls over.

"When I get the _Pearl_ back," he begins as I drop down next to him. "I'm gonna teach it to the whole crew—and we'll sing it all the time."

"And you will be positively the most fearsome pirate in the Spanish Main," I say with mock viciousness. His eyes widen.

"Not just the Spanish Main, love. The entire ocean."

I turn a snicker but he doesn't notice.

"The entire world. Wherever we want to go, we go. That's what a ship is, you know. It's not just a keel and a deck and sails. That's what a ship _needs._ But what a ship _is_ —what the _Black Pearl_ really is—is freedom," he whispers.

I swallow slowly. There is truth to what he says.

"Jack," I sigh, leaning against his shoulder. "It must be really terrible for you to be trapped on this island."

"Oh yes," he responds. "But the . . . company is infinitely better than last time, I think."

I look down to see Jack's greasy pirate fingers wrapping around my shoulder.

"The scenery has definitely improved," he laughs, and I smell his breath, which stinks of rum.

"Mr. Sparrow," I squeak, sitting up. "I'm not entirely sure I've had enough rum to allow that kind of talk."

He holds up an index finger.

"I know exactly what you mean, love." He curls his mustache upward. I feel his hand snaking back behind my neck and I instantly hold out my bottle of rum for a toast.

"To freedom."

"To the _Black Pearl_ ," he agrees, hitting his bottle against mine. I put my bottle to my lips but I don't drink anything. I don't dare. Jack takes one gulp after another, until he finally hits the ground with a _thump_. Pathetic.

I look down at the bottle in my hand. Or four bottles, rather. The world seems to by spinning. I lay down, trying to control my dizziness.

I probably feel this way because it's the first time I've tasted the rum. Father's voice echoes in my head. _Ghastly drink it is. Turns good men into dirty thieves . . ._

I giggle sleepily, missing Father's voice.

Father wasn't very outspoken about rum until around the time I turned sixteen. Father was hosting a dinner party at the mansion when we received word that the court house was ablaze. Apparently one of the officers had left a bottle of rum near a fireplace and it had somehow tipped over, sending an entire wing of the building up in flames. After that, Father never allowed rum in the mansion or anywhere else he had authority over. He said not only is it a foul and disgraceful drink, but also dangerous because it's flammable.

 _Flammable_.


	12. Whatever's Necessary

I sit up instantly, my mind racing.

There is an entire cache of rum hidden on this island. If I set its contents on fire, surely the smoke will rise high enough for someone to see it. Commodore Norrington must have several ships out looking for me. There may yet be a way to escape this island!

I look over at Sparrow, who now lies prostrate on the sand.

 _Perhaps rum is good for something._

I jump up without further hesitation. Taking a smoldering torch from the bonfire, I run through the palm trees to the open cargo door. The cargo hole is quite large. Starting with the bottles on the shelves, I carry them one by one up the ladder. The cans of fish are next. I add them to the pile.

After emptying the contents of the entire cargo hole, I'm satisfied. The pile of crates reaches half my height. Once I light it on fire, the flames will go on for hours and the smoke for even longer.

At last, hope starts to swell within me.

I start pulling out crates and setting them side by side so that they're all touching. I pile them on top of one another and pour some rum out on top of them. I set a small pile of crates aside to fuel the fire when it starts to burn low. Next, I take two pieces of trunk from a fallen palm tree and begin to rub them together to start a fire. I don't have much luck at first. The bark is wet with dew. I set them out in the sun and wait for them to dry. While waiting, I collect palm leaves, leftover wood from the bonfire, and anything else that will burn.

After about an hour, I return to rub the pieces of wood together. This takes much of my patience away, but at last the bark slowly begins to produce a wisp of grey smoke. I rub the pieces back and forth, faster and faster. Suddenly, there is an orange spark and the wood ignites. I throw the pieces onto the crates of rum. The moment the bark touches the rum, some of the crates burst open. I crouch in fright. Dark soot floats over me, tangling in my hair and darkening my chemise. The tips of the palm leaves have caught fire and are now slowly turning into ash. I stand up slowly, admire my handiwork, and then smile. This is going better than I thought.

The next time I throw in a barrel of rum, I'm ready. I duck into a ball just as the barrel explodes, and then I stand up and do it again. I look at the smoke rising into the sky, higher and higher. I sit down on the white sand beach and watch the smoke proudly. I feel as if it's going to touch the sun, which is now high in the afternoon sky. My stomach grumbles a little. I can't remember the last time I ate.

 _It's okay Elizabeth,_ I promise myself. _A navy ship will eventually appear. You'll be able to eat soon. You'll be on your way to save Will._

An hour later, I feed the fire again. Rum blasts into oblivion as a puff of fire swallows pile the crates. I duck as they explode, and then throw in more cargo.

"No! Not good! Stop! Not good!" Calls a voice from behind me.

Sparrow runs up, his mouth hanging open. I walk past him, hardly caring about whatever he is going to say next. His love for rum is what is going to keep us on this God-forsaken island.

"What are you doing?" He demands. "You burned all the food, the shade! The rum!"

"Yes, the rum is gone," I snap.

"Why is the rum gone?"

"One," I round on him, raising my voice, "because it is a vile drink that turns even the most respectable men into complete scoundrels. Two, that signal is over a thousand feet high. The entire Royal Navy is out looking for me and do you really think that there is even the slightest chance they won't see it?"

"But why is the rum gone?" Sparrow repeats.

I collapse onto the sand in exasperation.

"Just wait Captain Sparrow. You give it one hour, maybe two, you keep a weather eye open and you will see white sails on that horizon."

 _I am halfway to Will already._

Sparrow walks away without saying another word. I know he's furious with me, but I have no desire to stop him. Maybe I'll get lucky and he won't be around when I'm picked up by a British ship.

 _Blasted pirate,_ I think miserably, cursing myself for the fiftieth time for my curiosity about piracy.

I scan the surface of the ocean, looking for anything that might suggest a ship.

 _What if I'm too late?_ The thought pops into my head before I can stop it. _What if the_ Pearl _has already arrived at Isla de Muerta? What if Will is . . . ?_

I shake my head.

No. Don't think about that.

I continue to look out at the sea. The sun beats down on my arms and neck. I squint my eyes and put a hand up to cover them from the sun. I'm so anxious to get off this island that I start hallucinating clouds for sails. I notice that one cloud looks particularly odd, as it seems to be getting closer.

And then I see it.

A mast. Sails. A ship. A ship has come for me! And it is none other than the _HMS Dauntless_. I have no doubt Commodore Norrington is upon it.

I jump up and run to the beach, waving my arms and yelling.

"Over here! Over here!"

The _Dauntless_ drops anchor and a rowboat is sent out. It's filled with officers dressed in red. As the rowboat nears the shore, I run out into the water to meet it.

"Miss Swann!" An officer recognizes me.

"How are you alive?"

"And why on earth is _Sparrow_ here?"

To my utmost dismay, I see that is Sparrow running towards us.

"Hullo boys, glad you stopped by," he says as he runs up towards us. Guns are immediately placed upon him.

"Jack Sparrow, I never thought I'd see you again," says an officer, digging the barrel of his gun into Sparrow's temple. The pirate's hands twitch.

"It's _Captain_ Jack Sparrow to you," he replies.

Two officers take his elbows and force him into the boat. He squirms uncomfortably, but ultimately goes without a fuss.

Just then, one of the officers holds out his hand to me. I look down at it for a moment and then realize he's offering to help me into the boat. I smile politely and take it, but as I sit down in the rowboat I feel strange. I had expected just to climb in myself. However, I put this out of my mind and soon we're climbing onto the _Dauntless._

The face that greets me first is one I have longed to see most dearly since my kidnap at Port Royal.

"Father!" I say.

"Elizabeth? You're alive!" He exclaims. He looks unwell with pale complexion and dark circles under his eyes. I feel guilty that he's been worrying about me, but I cannot waste any more time.

"Will has been taken by Barbossa and his crew and they intend to kill him," I say quickly. "Father, we have to go to the Isla de Muerta to rescue him!"

My father laughs.

"Elizabeth, that is out of the question. We are only out here to rescue you. "

"But we've got to save Will!" I argue.

"No!" Father raises his voice. "You're safe now. We will return to Port Royal immediately—not go gallivanting after pirates!"

"Then we condemn him to death!" I struggle to keep my voice steady.

Father turns around. Beside him stands Commodore Norrington.

"The boy's fate is regrettable, but then so was his decision to engage in piracy," my father mutters.

"To rescue me. To prevent anything from happening to me!" I protest.

"If I may be so bold as to inject my professional opinion," Sparrow walks up beside me. "The _Pearl_ was listing near to scuppers after the battle. It's very unlikely she'll be able to make good time. Think about it. The _Black Pearl._ The last, real pirate threat in the caribbean, mate. How can you pass that up, right?"

I look to Norrington, who stands contemplating the pirate's offer. For the first time, I am actually grateful that Jack is here.

"By remembering that I serve others, Mr. Sparrow. Not only myself," Norrington declines, turning around and walking away from us.

 _No. This ship is my last hope of rescuing Will. I got off that island and I am not giving up now. What can I possibly say to Commodore that will make him give in?_

Oh, Elizabeth. Of course.

I squeeze past Jack and Father and follow Norrington in desperation.

"Commodore, I beg you, please do this. For me. As a wedding gift."

Commodore Norrington stops stone-still. He turns around to face me.

"Elizabeth," Father says. "Are you accepting the commodore's proposal?"

"I am," I say solemnly.

"A wedding, I love weddings! Drinks all around!" Jack shouts behind me.

Commodore looks away from me, frowning.

"I know, 'clap him in irons,' right?" Jack says sheepishly.

Norrington descends the stairs from the deck slowly.

"Mr. Sparrow, you will accompany these fine men to the helm and provide us with a bearing to Isla de Muerta."

 _Oh Commodore._

"You will then spend the rest of the voyage contemplating all possible meanings of phrase 'silent as the grave.' Do I make myself clear?"

"Inescapably clear," Jack replies. The officers on either side of him take hold of his elbows and lead him away. My Father approaches the commodore.

"Commodore, I must question the wisdom of this."

"With all due respect, Governor," Commodore pauses. "Mr. Turner is a subject of the British Crown and therefore under my protection."

Father looks down and then nods.

"Rightly so." He looks briefly at me and then back at Commodore. "Take care of her."

The commodore smiles at him and Father leaves. I don't move from my spot beside the staircase. Commodore offers his elbow to me.

"Elizabeth."

I take his arm reluctantly.

 _This is for Will_ , I tell myself.

"I'm concerned that your answer was, perhaps . ." he pauses. "Less than sincere."

"I would not give my word lightly," I reply.

"Yes, I understand. But is it so wrong that I should want it given unconditionally?" He looks at me. I nod in agreement, knowing I should tread lightly with my response.

"It is not a condition, it is a request. Your answer would not change mine. You are a fine man, James." I smile at him. His mouth turns into the happiest smile I've seen on him.

"Well. Very well. Excellent. I should be returning to the helm. I will have an officer's uniform sent to you."

I look down at my soot- and sand-covered chemise. I had completely forgotten that is all that I am wearing.

"Yes, thank you," I say gratefully.

"No, thank you, Elizabeth." He touches my elbow slightly and then leaves without another word. I sigh and stare out at the ocean for a moment. Poor, poor commodore. I meant what I said to him. Being his wife will not be bad, not bad at all. But I will not feel free.

I retreat to an empty cabin below deck. I stand in the doorway until an officer comes with a uniform in his hands. I take it, thank him, and shut the cabin door. I lean against it for a moment. My thoughts are calm but not regretful. The price I pay for Will's life I would willingly pay again if given the choice.

I peel off my salty chemise and gladly exchange it for a pair of trousers, a white cotton shirt, black shoes, and a red jacket with golden buttons. I wash my face with cold water from a bucket and comb out the tangles in my hair with my fingers. A few minutes later, an officer provides me with fish and biscuits, some of which are a little stale. The _Dauntless_ must have been at sea for a long time now. I feel a rush of affection for my father and the commodore. I knew they would not forget me.

 _How could Commodore forget his future wife?_ I think miserably. I replay the situation over and over in my mind, but I can't see how I could have produced another outcome. There wasn't a way I could save both Will and my possible future with him.

 _It has to be this way._

And what will I tell Will? He believes I have feelings for him and now I've pledged myself to the commodore.

 _What does it matter now? Will is no longer yours. You will marry Commodore._ There is no going back. I've saved Will. That was my desire.

I finish eating and look out the window for a bit. The is sky darkening. We will be there soon, no doubt.

Unable to stay in the small, stuffy cabin any longer, I make my way up to the deck. The air is damp with cold mist. Not many sailors are on the deck. They must be busy preparing for the assault. Suddenly, I spot a figure standing at the ship's side. Jack. He stands motionless in the salty air. I approach him quietly and then stand by his side, staring at the waves.

"You didn't tell him about the curse," I say to him.

"I noticed neither did you," he replies. "Same reason I believe."

"He wouldn't have risked it."

"Could've gotten him drunk," Jack says with a grin. "Don't get me wrong, love, I admire a person who is willing to do whatever's necessary."

"You're a smart man, Jack, but I don't entirely trust you," I say coldly. He walks over to me. He's only a couple of inches away.

"Peas in a pod, darling."

Someone approaches us from behind Jack. The commodore. I look away quickly. He throws Jack his black compass.

"With me, Sparrow."

Neither of them say another word. I look back at the ocean.

 _I admire a person who is willing to do whatever's necessary,_ Jack's words echo in my head.


	13. The Code

Half an hour more staring out at the ocean and I begin to grow cold. I go back to my cabin and lay on my bed, absorbed in my thoughts. The cabin is completely dark. No light shines through the porthole. The ship rocks back and forth . . . back and forth . . .

I'm on the _Black Pearl._ It's wood as black as the night. The deck is deserted. The ship suddenly tilts and something green rolls towards me. I bend down slowly and pick it up. I feel as though I'm moving through quicksand. The green orb is an apple. A chunk is missing out of it. Someone has taken a bite. I look up. Deathly eyes. Bones, matted hair, a monkey on his shoulder.

"Welcome to Hell," Barbossa spits.

 _Smack!_

I hit my head on the bunk above me.

"Ow," I say, rubbing my forehead in pain. It's covered in sweat. I sit up and sigh. The cabin looks the same as it had before. I get up and look out the porthole. We are no longer moving. I see a large, black ship in the distance. It floats motionless upon the water.

I have returned to Isla de Muerta.

I hear movement up on deck and I immediately leave the cabin to go investigate. I intend to be on the first rowboat to Isla de Muerta. I rush up the stairs and onto the deck. Officers are everywhere, cleaning weapons and handing eachother guns. Two soldiers approach me as I reach out to grab my own rifle.

"Sorry, miss," one of the officers says. "The commodore advises that you stay here for your own safety. He can't risk his future wife getting kidnapped again by the pirates."

"I am well aware of the risk. Now please, let me through."

The two soldiers grab my arms.

"Stop!" I exclaim. "Let go! I have to speak to Commodore." I try to slip out of their grasp, but they hold on tightly.

"The commodore ordered that you be locked in his office during the battle," one of the soldiers says as I struggle desperately.

 _I knew I couldn't entirely trust Sparrow._

"He doesn't know what he's up against! I've seen them! I've fought them!"

"Sorry, but it's for your own safety." They push me towards the glass doors of Commodore's office.

"I don't care what the commodore ordered! I have to tell him! The pirates! They can't be killed!"

The officers throw me inside the office. The lieutenant approaches me with a smirk.

"Don't worry, miss, he's already informed of that. A little mermaid flopped up on deck and told him the whole story," he says and shuts the glass doors with a slam. I hear a resounding _click._

"This is Jack Sparrow's doing!" I yell after him. That filthy, lying, scheming, _pirate_.

I turn around. Sparrow doesn't want me in the middle of the battle, but I intend to save Will. After Will left Sparrow behind at Isla de Muerta, I'm guessing Sparrow isn't feeling very compassionate towards Will. All Sparrow cares about is getting the _Pearl_ back, and that can in no way guarantee Will's life.

I've escape a deserted island. I can escape a locked cabin. I will save Will.

Assuming we're not already too late.

I look around Commodore's office for some means of escape. I run out to the balcony in the back. To my left is a rowboat that was left hanging off the side of the ship, unused. Taking a sconce off the wall of the cabin, I run back outside and manage to pull the pulleys towards me, slowly releasing the rowboat into the water. It falls in with a splash and I look at the glass doors behind me. There is no movement, not even from the guard who was posted to watch over me.

I look back around the cabin and begin pulling down the curtains off the windows. I manage to tie the curtains together and secure it to the railing of the balcony.

"Elizabeth?" A knock sounds on the glass doors. It's my father.

"I just want you to know I, uh, I believe you made a very good decision today."

 _Not now Father._

"Couldn't be more proud of you."

I finishing tying the rope of curtains to the balcony and don't stay a second longer to hear my Father's speech. I lower myself down the rope carefully. I hope that it's strong enough. I climb as quickly and as calmly as I can until I am safely inside the boat. I take hold of the oars and then row through the dark water away from the _Dauntless_.

 _What to do . . what to do. Really, Elizabeth. You should have thought about this_ before _you escaped_.

If I go to save Will I'm not sure I'll be anything but another weapon used against him. I don't know how to fight properly. If I go directly to Will, he might just die trying to protect me. Not to mention the entire skeleton crew will be in that cave.

No. I cannot do this alone. I must enlist help elsewhere.

I reach the side of the _Black Pearl_ and stop my boat beside it. I take a rope from the rowboat and tie it to the dark ship. I climb up the side quietly, all the while listening for sounds coming from the _Pearl._ There is not a sound to be heard except the slopping of the ocean against the boats. However silent it may be, I know there are pirates in there. Barbossa would not be so foolish as to leave it completely unguarded and unprotected, even when they were going to perform the ritual that would lift the curse.

I climb up to a cannon hole and hear voices coming from inside. I peer into the ship and spot two pirates sitting at a table of food lit with candles. I avoid being seen and drop onto the deck. It looks ghostly and deserted, though it's the exact same deck I was on just a few days ago.

My breathing becomes erratic . . . I feel as if I'm being watched.

 _Screech!_

Barbossa's monkey drops down from a rope. It's boney and skinless in the moonlight. I'm startled at first, but then my face hardens.

 _Not this time._

The monkey falters in its screeching. I swing my hand as hard as I can and hit the creature square in the face. It goes flying overboard. I look over the side to see it hit a cannon, making a sharp, metallic sound. To my horror, two pirates stick their heads out of the cannon hole to watch the monkey fall into the water. They turn to look up at me.

 _Oh no._

I run across the deck and down the stairs, hiding behind them just as the two pirates rush up the stairs to find me. Once they are out of sight, I run down to the lowest level of the ship: The brig. I pass a ring of keys hanging on a nail on the wall, and then I spot the _Interceptor's_ crew all in one cell.

"Miss Elizabeth!" Mr. Gibbs says.

The crew jumps in silent happiness. I take the ring of keys and find one that fits the lock, unlocking the cell. The crew comes pouring out and then they run up the stairs. I'm right behind them.

"There are still pirates on deck, we need to find a way to—" I start to explain, but I come on deck just as the _Interceptor's_ crew shoves a hanging rowboat right into the two pirates, knocking them overboard.

"Haaaaah!" The crew rushes forward in triumph.

I approach the rowboat.

"All of you with me!" I order. "Will is in that cave and we must save him. Ready . . and . . heave!"

The rowboat rocks feebly. I turn around slowly. The crew stands motionless behind me.

"Please, I need your help. Come on!"

The parrot on one of the men's shoulder squawks.

"Any port in a storm."

"Cotton's right," Gibbs says. "We've got the _Pearl._ "

"What about Jack? Are you just gonna leave him?"

"Jack owes us a ship," says the pirate half as tall as me.

"And there's the code to consider," Gibbs adds.

"The code?" I repeat. "You're pirates! Hang the code, and hang the rules! They're more like guidelines anyway."

None of them move.

 _Fine._ If they won't help me I'll do it myself.

They watch, motionless, as I lower myself down into the rowboat I arrived in. I curse them as I row away. My bandaged hand stings from constant rowing.

 _I rescued them so we could save Will. Now they're stealing the_ Pearl. _I should have never expected a group of pirates to go and save someone they didn't care about and not even someone they did. Poor Jack._

I run aground on rock, finally reaching the mouth of the cave. I set the oars down, climb out of the rowboat, and run into the cave. Soon piles of gold and jewels begin to appear. I step through the water, soaking my trousers, and then climb up a mountain of gold.

 _I need a weapon._ Beside me, I spot a large, gold-plated pipe. I take it and rush forward. The sight I see is chaotic.

Jack is battling Barbossa while the rest of the pirates fight . . .

Will! My heart leaps.. He's still alive. But he's on the ground, knocked down by a pirate with a long brown beard.

"I'm gonna teach you the meaning of pain," the pirate growls.

"You like pain?" I shout, and I slam the golden pipe across his face. "Try wearing a corset."

I offer the pipe to Will, who takes it and helps himself up. He looks at me, his brown eyes gleaming. The corners of my mouth twitch into a smile.

I look down to see Jack and Barbossa down below, fighting in the water. Moonlight streams from apertures in the top, illuminating parts of the cave. As Jack and Barbossa pass through them, I see not one skeleton, but two.

"Whose side is Jack on?" I snap.

"At the moment?" Will replies.

An image of skeleton Barbossa flits through my mind, the one from my dream. I am scared, but I know it's time to forget my fear.

Forgetting about both Jack and my dream, I run back to the pirates Will has been fighting, hitting one in the head with the golden pipe. His neck snaps back and falls to the ground. I resist wincing and turn to see a pirate approaching Will, who has no sword. I throw the pipe to him. He catches it just in time to shove his attacker away from him. I hide behind Will and kick another pirate away, taking hold of the pipe. Together we thrust it into the pirate's center, which then goes through two more of them. The three pirates shriek as we run around to face them. They can't seem to get themselves free of the pipe. A thick fume fills my nostrils. Smoke. I look down to see Will picking up an ignited bomb that one of the pirates dropped. Will puts it in between the ribs of the pirate in the middle and together we push them out of the light. They returns to flesh and blood, no longer skeletons.

"No fair," one of them whimpers. I turn around smile in triumph at Will, only to see that he is no longer by my side. He's running away! _Why . . . ?_

All of a sudden I understand. I am barely out of range when the pirates blow up. I feel a small, sickening feeling as bones and fleshy body parts drop into the water around me. I jump onto a rock across the water and freeze. Barbossa is pointing his long golden gun right at me. I barely breathe.

A shot rings out and I flinch. The sound rings throughout the cave. However, I feel no pain. Barbossa's expression turns confused. His golden gun remains poised and loaded.

Jack stands behind Barbossa, his one-shot pistol smoking.

"Ten years you carry that pistol, and now you waste your shot," Barbossa sneers.

"He didn't waste it," Will's voice resonates. He stands over the stone chest of gold pieces, a bloodied hand holding out two gold medallions. He opens his hand and the gold falls into the chest.


	14. Another Ceremony

I look at Barbossa, whose expression is stunned. He looks down and opens his jacket to reveal blood pouring from the gunshot wound. Jack lowers his gun slowly, not looking away. Barbossa's mouth smiles a little, his eyes widening.

"I feel . . . cold," he says.

 _He can feel._

The curse is lifted.

Barbossa's body hits the pile of gold behind him; a green apple rolls from his hand.

I turn around.

 _Barbossa is dead. The captain who took me hostage. The man I feared both night and day. The man who, seconds ago, was going to kill me. He's gone._ _I'm free. I'm free to go home to Port Royal. Home to Father. Home to . . . Commodore._

My breathing slows down to a normal pace.

I hear footsteps behind me. I turn. Will looks at me with triumphant eyes. I smile slightly and he does as well. He's coming closer . . .

Glass shatters behind us. Jack is inspecting the piles of gold and decorating himself with it.

 _You're engaged to the commodore now, Elizabeth. And besides—Will is a pirate now. No matter his intentions, what he has done brandishes him with the name pirate. He and I can never have a future together._

"We should return to the _Dauntless_ ," I say to him. He looks down.

"Your fiance will be wanting to know you are safe," he replies.

 _He knows?_

The pain in his eyes is unbearable for me. I walk away from him without another word, regret consuming me. I walk towards the rowboat and begin to untie it. Jack climbs in first, wearing a rather large crown and many strings of pearls around his neck and shoulders. Will takes the oars and sits facing me, but not looking at me. I climb in last, staring at the back of Jack's head. He's sitting rather funny, his posture is down. I follow his gaze to where the _Pearl_ was once anchored.

The _Pearl_ is gone.

"I'm sorry, Jack," I say, and for the first time, I mean it.

"They done what's right by them. Can't expect more than that," he mutters. His voice is full of misery. With the _Pearl_ gone, the only fate that awaits Jack is the noose.

When we board the _Dauntless_ , Jack is immediately cast into the brig. I stay to see what becomes of Will's fate, but only after enduring my father's scolding for running away like I did.

"Elizabeth what were you thinking? You could have gotten yourself killed!" He rebukes me.

"I wouldn't have been in a much better position here," I reply, my eyes sweeping the deck of fallen officers. That was why the entire skeleton crew wasn't in the cave. They were attacking the _Dauntless._

Will faces Commodore, who stands resolute before him, blood spattered across his uniform.

"Mr. Turner. You enlisted the help of a pirate whom you broke out of prison, commandeered a ship, and engaged in reckless behavior I should hope no other englishman ever dreams of. I hope you understand the moral gravity of what you have done," Commodore says.

"Yes, sir."

Commodore looks to my Father, who looks from Commodore to me. Father sighs, lets go of me, and steps forward toward Will.

"Very well. You are free to go."

Will's demeanor relaxes and he looks at me. I struggle to show no emotion, but from the accusation in Will's eyes, I know he understands I had something to do with this. A full pardon was hardly what he was expecting. Now I just have to fill out my part of the bargain.

The voyage home I spend in my father's cabin. The trip does not take long on the _Dauntless_. Mostly, I fear what awaits me back home. Jack's hanging, scheduled for the morning after we return. My marriage to Commodore, which, Father informed me, would most likely not be long after.

Mrs. Commodore Norrington.

 _It is the price I pay for Will's life. He is now free to continue his work as a blacksmith. And were it not for me, he would likely be in the same position Jack is in._

Poor Jack, I think. But I can't understand why I feel so awful for him. Perhaps it is because I saw him do everything in his power for the sake of once again being the rightful captain of the _Black Pearl_. I saw him do everything in his power to obtain his freedom once more. Now he has nothing.

A day's voyage and the twinkling lights of Port Royal appear in the distance. We arrive late in the night. I see nothing of Jack nor Will as my Father takes me quickly off the ship and rushes me into a carriage.

"Welcome back, Miss Swann," the driver tips his hat to me. His greeting catches me off guard.

 _Miss Swann?_

The mansion has been repaired since the pirate attack. Estrella and Coralyn meet me at the door. They curtsey and I kiss my father goodnight.

"I'm so glad you're safe, Elizabeth," he says.

"I'm glad you are too." We part and I climb up to my room. It looks very welcome and I must say I'm grateful to see it.

Estrella fills a bath for me while Coralyn fills a bedpan with hot coals from the fireplace. The same bedpan I used to hit Pintel and Rigetti.

"I'm so happy to see you alive and well, Miss Swann," Estrella says.

"Thank you. I feel the same for you."

"Captured by pirates! How truly frightening."

"You have no idea," I mutter as she steps out. I take off my boots, trousers, my cotton shirt, and red jacket. I sink into the bathwater and breathe out slowly, allowing the water to relax my strained muscles.

 _Returning home to Father. The maids, the warmth, the bath. It's what I've longed for._ _But something feels wrong. Port Royal has not changed, but I have. My view of piracy has changed. My view of Will has changed. My view of Jack has changed._

I climb into bed a half an hour later, but I hardly close my eyes before dawn breaks.

And then the drums start.

* * *

I insist I will never another corset. Father does not press the matter. I choose to wear my gown with the white lace on the sleeves. Coralyn styles my hair beautifully and then helps me tie a hat around my chin. I don't forget to take my fan before I leave the house. I don't forget what happened at the last ceremony I attended.

Actually, I rather despise dressing up for such an event as this. Surely Jack did not sleep a single minute last night. I know how he feels. I wish things could be different, but they aren't. I see no way out of this.

The carriage takes Father and I to Fort Charles for the hanging. The fort is crowded with citizens of Port Royal. I suspect many do not even know who Jack is. Most stand in anticipation, children running and shouting excitedly. I've never felt such resentment towards social customs as I do this moment.

Father leads me to stand with Commodore Norrington, who greets me with a smile.

"You look lovely, Elizabeth," he says. I smile and nod but say nothing. Jack has been brought out. He looks stiff and rumpled, quite unlike the way he had looked on Isla de Muerta. The soldiers push him up the steps towards the noose.

"Jack Sparrow," someone reads off.

 _Captain Jack Sparrow,_ says a voice in my head.

"For your willful commission of crimes against the crown. Said crimes be in numerous quantity and sinister in nature. The most egregious of these will be cited herewith."

With every word, I feel increasingly edgy.

"Piracy. Smuggling . . ."

"This is wrong," I mumble.

"Commodore Norrington is bound by the law," Father says beside me. "As are we all."

The drums beat.

"Impersonating an officer of the Spanish Royal Navy. Impersonating a cleric of the church of England. Sailing under false colors, arson, kidnapping, looting, poaching, brigandage, pilfering, depravity, depredation, and general lawlessness."

There must be some way to stop this.

The drums beat mercilessly.

"And for these crimes you have been sentenced to be, on this day, hung by the neck until dead. May God have mercy on your soul."

"Governor Swann," says a voice from below us.

Will stands at the bottom of the stone steps, dressed in a new brown vest and a red cape tied around his shoulders. Two swords are secured in his belt. Upon his head is a rather large hat with a big, white feather. He looks very fine.

"Commodore," Will greets. "Elizabeth."

I meet his eyes.

"I should have told you every day from the moment I met you. I love you."

My heart stops.

 _He loves me._

With that, Will turns around and forces himself through the crowd. The drums speed up. The noose is placed around Jack's neck.

 _Will was wearing_ two _swords._

All of a sudden, out of the corner of my eye, I spot a blue and yellow parrot take flight. I recognize that parrot.

Will is pushing his way to Jack. Commodore notices.

"Marines," he says.

"I can't breathe," I say quickly, and I fall to the ground.

"Elizabeth!" Father exclaims. I feel him and Commodore crouch beside me. I've momentarily distracted them, but I hear the drums pounding. There are screams from the crowd.

Father takes my fan and begins to fan me.

"Move!" A voice yells from the crowd.

"Come on, Elizabeth," Father says.

I sit up. The executioner pulls the lever and Jack falls to his death. Just in time, Will throws one of his swords and it shoots into the wood beneath Jack, allowing him to balance on it.

I look at my Father, whose eyes are full of confusion at my sudden awakening.

"What . . ." he mutters and trails off, suddenly realizing what I've done. He closes his eyes in shame. Commodore is quicker. He looks to his men and orders them on Will, whose is taking on the executioner.

Commodore pushes his way through the crowd of people, ordering them to move. Soldiers are running around the walls of Fort Charles to aid the commodore. Meanwhile, Will ducks as the executioner swings his ax. Will ducks and the ax slices through the rope that holds Jack. Will pushes the large executioner right onto Norrington and his men, who yell out in warning and fright.

Jack falls through the hole and cuts the rope that binds his hands with the sword that he was standing on a moment before. He runs out and throws Will his rope that was once his noose. They go running through the soldiers, throwing their balance out from underneath them and flipping them. They pull several soldiers towards a stone pillar with the rope and then squeeze them. The soldiers fall to the ground quite limp.

Losing sight of Jack and Will as they run across the fort, Father goes running down the steps and through the crowd. I follow him as quickly as I can, pushing through the people and somehow losing my hat, but slowly stumbling my way towards Will. He and Jack have been surrounded. The soldiers have their bayonets raised and ready. I rush up, eyeing the blade that Norrington points at Will's neck.

"On our return to Port Royal, I granted you clemency," Father is saying. "And this is how you thank me? By throwing in your lot with _him_? He's a pirate!"

Will's face looks determined and unashamed.

"And a good man," he counters, dropping his sword. "If all I have achieved is the hangman will earn two pairs of boots instead of one, so be it. At least my conscience will be clear."

Commodore takes a step towards Will.

"You forget your place, Turner," he says menacingly.

"It's right here," Will replies. "Between you and Jack."

Without a moment's hesitation, I walk forward. Past the soldiers, past my father, and past Commodore. My fingers slide through Will's.

"As is mine," I say. I look at Will, who looks at me with surprised eyes. My father looks horrified.

"Lower your weapons," Father orders the officers. "For goodness sake, put them down!"

The men do so reluctantly. My eyes go to Commodore Norrington, whose mouth moves up and down in hurt and confusion.

 _I'm sorry, James. But you are not my fate._

"So this is where your heart truly lies, then?" Commodore asks.

"It is," I respond. He looks down.

"Well!" Jack says from behind me. "I'm actually feeling rather good about this."

I look at Will, who is now holding my other hand.

"All this time?" He whispers. I nod. We don't look away from each other.

 _I took the medallion from you to save you from a pirate's fate_. _I agreed to marry Commodore to save your life. I freed the_ Pearl's _crew to rescue you. I'll do whatever it takes to be with you._

"Elizabeth," says Jack from behind me. I tear my eyes away from Will's to look at the convicted pirate. Jack's expression appears to be full of sorrow and regret.

"It would never have worked between us, darling."

 _Is he . . . serious?_

"I'm sorry," he mutters.

"Will," Jack turns to him. I suspect he would like to say a great deal of things, but he satisfies himself with: "Nice hat," and then runs up the stone steps of the battlement. The soldiers close in on him. I hold onto Will tightly. Jack backs up.

"Friends! This is the day that you will always remember as the day that—"

He runs into the battlement and falls over the side of the fort! We rush forward to peer into the sea.

Is he going to hit the rocks . . ?

He falls safely into the ocean below.

"Idiot," the lieutenant comments beside us. "He has nowhere to go but back to the noose."

Jack resurfaces down below.

"Sail ho!" Someone shouts in the distance. My jaw drops as a ghostly, black ship comes sailing into view.

The _Black Pearl._ They've come to rescue Jack. They hung the code, at last, and have come to save what they should never have left behind.

I suppose even pirates can redeem themselves.

"Mr. Turner," Commodore suddenly says.

What? No.

My fingers tighten instinctively around Will's hand. He turns to look at me.

"I will accept the consequences of my actions," he tells me. I let go of his hand with a heavy heart. He steps down to face Commodore, who brandishes his sword.

"This is a beautiful sword," Commodore says. "I would expect the man who made it to show the same care in every aspect of his life. My compliments."

"Thank you," Will says. Commodore Norrington lowers his sword and turns away.

 _Will is free._

"Oh, and Miss Swann," Commodore addresses me.

 _He called me Miss Swann._

"The very best of luck to you both." His smile is honest.

 _What a fine man you are, James._

If only he knew what this meant to me, and how sorry I feel that I cannot be what he wants.

"Commodore!" The lieutenant shouts. "What about Sparrow? Shall we prepare the _Dauntless_ in pursuit?"

"Well, I think we can afford to give him one day's head start," Commodore Norrington smiles slightly. He walks away with his hands behind his back. The soldiers follow their commander back into the fort.

I look at Will.

"So," says Father. "This is the path you've chosen, is it? After all, he is a blacksmith."

I smile.

"No."

Will looks at me and I absorb the look in his eyes. I take off his hat.

"He's a pirate."

Will's hand finds my cheek and he tilts his head. I lean into him until our lips meet. I feel as though I've waited my whole life for this one moment. My eyes close. All I feel is Will and the breeze of the sea.

Jack has found his freedom.

Now I have found mine.

 **SEQUEL IN PROGRESS.**


End file.
